


OLD VERSION: Vitra te Ikran

by tciddaemina



Series: Vitra te Ikran [2]
Category: Avatar (2009)
Genre: Abandoned Work - Unfinished and Discontinued, Alien Culture, Alien Flora & Fauna, Amnesia, F/M, Friendship, M/M, Magicless!Harry, Minor Violence, Slow Burn, Worldbuilding
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-10-20
Updated: 2014-10-20
Packaged: 2018-09-11 16:33:15
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 31,158
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8998486
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tciddaemina/pseuds/tciddaemina
Summary: An alien planet stretched before him, terrible and beautiful and dangerous all at the same time. The problem was, though, that he had absolutely no idea who he was.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> IMPORTANT NOTIFICATION  
> In case you didn't notice the title this is the old version of Vitra te Ikran. Since writing this I've rewritten the story, which can be found in the series or in my works. Any and all work I do on Vitra te Ikran from now on will be on the new version, meaning that the old version can be considered ABANDONED. Please don't ask for updates for this story. If you like it so much then please go see the new version which is still a work in progress.

  _“_ Ok, lets run through them again,” Dr. Augustine insisted, shoving hologram pad infront of his face. Shown on the pad a was a image of one of the Na'vi. They were entering the pod room, where the devices that let you enter your avatar body were held and operated, and Grace was quizing him on the names and faces of the Na'vi he needed to know.

“Mo'at. The dragon lady.”

 The pad disapperaed from view for a moment before reappearing infront of him, this time with a differet image, this one of the chief guy.

 “Atucan” He answered after a moment's hesitation.

 “ _Eytukan_. Hes the clan leader, but shes the spritual leader. Like a shaman.”

 “Got it.”

 The pad disappeared off to the side again, and Jake took the opportunity to shift himself into the foamy inside of the pod, but before he could pull his legs in it appeared again. Tsu'tey's glaring face stared out athim from the surface of the pad. That one was easy, the guy hated his guts.

 “Tsu'tey.”

 “ _Tsu_ 'tey.” Grace corrected with a scowl.

 “ _Tsu_ 'tey.” Jake parroted obediantly.

 “He'll be the next clan leader.”

 The pad beeped as Grace switched to the next picture, this one of Neytiri, her luminous golden eyes staring out at him from the glassy surface of the pad. He took the pad from Dr. Augustine and held it in front of him, staring into it.

 “Neytiri.”

 Grace made an affirming noise before continuing. “She'll be the next Tsahik. They would've become a mated pair if it hadn't been for Isonali te Hufwe.”

 “Iso te what?” Jake asked, sending Grace a questioning look as he hoisted his legs into the pod. Norm was standing at the end of the pod, leaning with one arm against it and he huffed a scarcastic laugh at Jake's question.

 “Isonali te Hufwe, or Isonali of Wind. He's the clan's top flyer and aerial hunter. The best they've ever had, apparently. The Omaticaya say he has the soul of an Ikran that was misplaced and put into the body of one of the Na'vi, thats how good he is. You'd know this if you'd had any training what so ever.” Norm scoffed.

 “Who's got a date with the chief daughter?” Jake asked in reply before turning away from Norm and towards Dr. Augustine. “Anyway what'd he do? Mate with Neytiri?”

 Grace gave him a look that told him how much of an idiot she thought he was, though it was a bit softer than when they had first met. Those glares were so intense they could have melted ice.

 “No, he didn't mate with Neytiri”

 Jake was worried that he felt somewhat relieved when he heard this, it really wasn't a good sign.

 “Then what did he do?”

 “Ask him your self.” Was Dr. Augustine's reply. “Lets go, village life starts early.”

 He took the hint and lay down, letting her bring down the light frame-like device that lay over him and monitored his body while he was in the avatar. Just before the lid came down Grace came over, putting her hands on the side of the pod and leaning over him.

 “Don't do anything unusually stupid.”

 Jake just smiled and reached up a hand, using it to give the lid the small pull it needed to slide closed above him with a small click, enclosing him in a world of green foam for the few second it took the technicians to activate the pod and send his mind into the spectrum of colour that was his link with his avatar.  


	2. Chapter 2

Oblivion was his world, and endless void of darkness and nothing that stretched in all directions. He had no name, no form, and yet he was. It was timeless, motionless. Eternity in a second as he floated in the void.

_I think therefore I am. But who am I?_

Thought was his catalyst, the trigger for his beginning. The void was gone and he was left, new and alone in the vibrant noise of the world. Rough moisture touched his back, dirt beneath his fingers and leaning waxy fern fronds caressing his skin.

He opened his eyes and saw the jungle surrounding him, stretching high into the sky above him. Pale beams of light shining down through the shadowing ferns, tangled vines, thick tree branches and the midgrade of other flora that made up Eywa's surface. The air was thick, hot against his skin and heavy in his lungs.

He was lying on the rainforest floor, hidden under the short canopy of plants that fought for space on Eywa's skin. Thick leaves surrounded him, brushing against him and tickling his skin with their deep green blades.

He dug his fingers into the dark soil, feeling it damp, rich and loose against his skin, filled and woven by the many different roots of the plants that surrounded him. As he sat up the plants stroked his skin, begging him to lie back down and wait for one of the jungles creatures to help return him to Eywa. He ignored them and finally saw himself.

He couldn't remember being any different than he was now but for some reason he was surprised at his appearance. It was knew to him, the body a stranger he had found himself deposited in. Blue patterned skin, long lithe limbs and winding swishy tail. He looked young, like a child, or at least he thought he did. It was weird in a way, being surprised at his own appearance, but he got over it. In the end he was himself and nothing could change that.

Giving himself a decisive nod he stood up. Unused muscles ached in protest and he wobbled dangerously and fell back down onto his bum, a small yelping hiss escaping him when he landed on his tail and a sharp stinging pain traveled all the way up his spine. He was not going to do that again. It hurt. The Tail was not to be messed with. Ever.

This time when he tried to stand he moved more slowly, using his hands to push himself off the ground until he was kneeling unsteadily. Already his muscles were crying out for surrender and pleading that he stop moving and sit back down. He was determined and would not be deterred. It took a while but eventually he was standing.

A small smile formed on his lips at his accomplishment. His thin and lanky limbs still threatened to buckle beneath him like a newborn calf and he could feel his muscles burning but he continued to ignore them and took the time to get a better look at himself.

Tail? Looking over his shoulder he saw it was swaying from happily side to side behind him. Check. Arms and legs? He moved them about a bit, rolling his shoulders and wiggling his fingers and toes. Check! ...even if for some reason they did feel unusually long. Ears? Reaching up he felt for his ears and found their pointed forms twitching about, turning in the direction of every new sound. Check! What else? … Nose! And eyes. Mouth too. Can't forget those. A quick touch latter he was sure he was in working order, even though his teeth were a bit pointier than he expected. He had canines!

Sufficiently please with the state of his own body he turned his attention outward and felt his tail still as he took in with awe the grandeur of the world around him. Gigantic trees with huge branches and roots were everywhere, all of them connected by numerous thick mossy vines that hung through the air, swinging to and fro. The ground was covered in a competition of different plants of all shapes and sizes, some of which not even reaching above his knees, while others towered over him with different shapes and colours. It was all he could see in every direction and it was epic.

A joyful grin graced his features and his tail danced happily, swishing and fluttering and generally wriggling about ecstatically. A sound behind him made his ears flicker around to catch it and his tail freeze in its happy dance as his grin dropped. Something really big was moving towards him, making only a small amount of noise as it rustled the fern-like plants on the ground and accompanied by the heavy wush of its breath. Not good.

Slowly he licked his lips and looked over his shoulder. He didn't know what its name was but it was really really scary and it looked like it wanted to eat him. It was black, had yellow eyes, six legs, and a really big mouth.

Or run or not to run? That is the question.

He ran, sprinting forward at a pace that made his lungs burn and his legs turn numb with pain, ducking through the undergrowth and trying to put some distance, any distance, between himself and that... that panther! He could hear it right behind him, crashing through the leaf and wood alike, ripping the thick branches and roots that he put between them apart with ease as it chased him.

Sometimes he could feel its breath of his back, warm and sticky and way too close for comfort. He ran faster, adrenalin urging him on faster and faster until he began to flatter. His pace stuttered no matter how hard he pushed himself, and he could feel its breath against him once again. It was like a cycle, one that would eventually end either in his death or his escape. He really hoped it would end with his escape.

For a moment he heard its movements pause and relief filled him for the moment it took him to work out what exactly it was doing. Dread and fear churned within his stomach, heavy and uncomfortable: the creature was preparing to pounce!

Without hesitation he threw himself to the side just as he heard the crunch of wood beneath its many clawed feet as it threw its weight into a jump, aiming its clawed forelegs the space he'd just occupied. He landed roughly on the ground, the force knocking precious air from his lungs. Pain laced across his back from where the creature had clawed him. He hadn't jumped soon enough!

He didn't have the time to catch his breath and he scrambled to his feet, not looking to see if it was still following him as he continued to run. Less than a second later he heard it resume its pursuit and lunged out of the way just in time to avoid the sharp snap of teeth near his neck.

His pulse throbbed in his ears, adding to the lightheaded dizziness of blood loss as he felt the warm wet of his blood seeping down his black from his wounds, the smell encouraging the beast to attack again. His left ear twitched as he heard the distant rush of water off to that side, causing him to move more towards the right. He didn't know if water would scare the creature off, or whether there was enough of it to do so but he wasn't willing to take the risk. Water would slow him down and that was the opposite of what he needed, so he avoided it and kept running.

What seemed like hours later he heard the tell tale absence of the creatures movement and took a deep breath before dodging to the side and forcing himself to what had to be his fastest sprint. He felt the sting across his back once again as the beast's claws clipped him, making him stagger and cry out in pain until he forced the feeling down and continued to run.

His legs were dead heavy lumps of lead, moved only by his force of will and desperation. The sticky damp of his life force had spread down the back of his legs and was dripping to the ground, leaving a scent trail for the creature to follow. It copper scent obvious even to his own nose. His head was a tornado, spinning and light and full of useless noise as his vision blurring and darkening menacingly at the edges. He was running out of energy and the blood loss was taking its toll, if he didn't escape soon he would fall. If that happened he would be eaten. He didn't want to be eaten, not at all.

Panicked eyes searched for an escape as he kept running, pushing his body even further and ignoring the burn growing in his throat and lungs as he breathed hard, his body searching for more air. His heart seemed to skip when his gaze fell upon a root of one of the gigantic trees, one of the ones that slowly rose above the ground, twisting its way upwards towards the massive tree from which it grew. If he could get onto that and use it to get above the ground and maybe into one of the trees then he might be safe.

His heart hammered in his chest loudly and he didn't notice the creature stop. A moment later he realized his mistake as he heard the snapping sound of the beast's jump and dove out of the way just as he felt tapered nails cut their way through his back for a third and final time. He fell to the ground, clenching his teeth against the pain and staggered to his feet once again.

The creature was watching him, its yellow eyes a poisonous intensity against his own weary gaze. Its crown of flap-like displays spread in warning as its hissed and snarled at him. With growing despair he noticed it now stood between him and the huge ramped root he had hoped to use as escape. His mouth was dry with fear and he could already feel tears of frustration prickling at the corner of his eyes.

His eyes closed and he took a scared breath, feeling it shudder as he took it in and tremble as he let it go.

He balled his hands into fists and opened his eyes again, giving a heavy breath out his nose as his determination returned. He was going to escape. All he needed to get around the creature and then run. Simple really.

Taking a deep steady breath he ignored the rapid beat of his heart and nagging voice in the back of his head begging him to abort his suicidal plan. No, he thought, I will do this.

Without warning he sprinted forward as fast as he could, making the creature startle with the unexpected movement and snarl in surprise. It lowered its head, baring its teeth and prepared to pounce on him. The corner of his mouth tilted in a smile, that was exactly what he needed. Stretching his arms he slapped his palms flat against the creatures black back, for a moment feeling the rubbery warm texture of the beast's skin against his hands as he used his hold to throw his legs over its body, not waiting until he felt his feet hit the ground for him to start running again.

He didn't hear the beast move for a moment, which was good, he needed all the head start he could get. He was running more slowly now, his injuries and exhaustion crippling his speed and it took far too long for him to reach the rising root. By the time his feet touched the barky surface of the wood he could hear the creature running behind him, chasing him and easily gaining distance with every leaping step it took.

At first the root stayed close to the ground, within easy reach should the creature catch up, but slowly it began growing higher and higher, bringing his tired feet meters above the ground as he continued to run. The bark was slippery with moss and he almost slipped a few times before he figured out where to step to avoid the worse of the slippery moss. He could still hear the beast behind him, the crashing movements spurring him on, but it was growing more distant. The creature's six legs put it at a disadvantage once the rainforest's floor and its many handholds from which the creature could launch itself were lost.

After a while the sounds of pursuit grew fainter, before long stopping all together. The forest was quite in its absences, less immediately dangerous as his ears stained for any hint that it was still coming after. The noise of the jungle surrounded him, sounds of passing creatures growing in his ears as he began to relax. The soft booming calls off in the distance along with chirping cries high in the canopy. Somehow soothing in comparison to the harsh crashing and growling hisses of the panther creature.

He slowed to a halt and looked over his shoulder, seeing nothing he let his shaking legs give way beneath him as he collapsed, pain and exhaustion overpowering the fading adrenalin that had been all that was keeping him going. He wobbled precariously for a moment as the movement sent him dangerously close the the curving edge of the root but settled again and let a bubbling laugh shake his chest. He was alive.

His back was a mess of pain and blood and he knew he wouldn't be able to move any of his limbs if he tried, but he was alive!

The adrenalin was leaving and his body trembled, the pain in his back becoming all the more intense with every passing second until he could only wonder how he had even been able to move with such excruciating wounds. The pain eclipsed everything, fiery whips of pain slicing up and down his back where the creatures sharp talons and rent his back. It would be just his luck if he got an infection. He could barely even see anymore, grey clouds obscuring his vision and warning him of the growing blood loss he had suffered.

The darkness that had been steadily creeping through the edges of his vision grew in strength, suddenly enveloping what was left of his sight and making his fall forward. His face hit the spongy moss on the root, his nose twinging at the impact. His vision faded and he sank in unconsciousness.


	3. Chapter 3

Ateyo listened to the steady thumping footsteps of his son's Pa'li riding at his flank as he steered his own Pa'li through the undergrowth of the western forest of the Omatikaya territory. They were on a routine patrol of the inner territory, making sure that the sky people had not tried to once again invade their way into the clan's territory.

His son, Tsu'tey, had asked to accompany the patrol and Ateyo had seen no reason not to allow him to come. It was common for patrols through the forest so close to the safety of the hometree of be undertaken by only a pair of trained warriors rather than the larger groups that would patrol the territory further away. Ateyo usually patrolled with his brother, Lo'ak, who had had no issue with the idea, quite the opposite in fact. It would be a good experience for the boy, Lo'ak had said, seeing as it was unlikely that they would run anything too dangerous so close to the home of the clan while still allowing him to experience a patrol.

It had been almost eights years since the Sky People had come down to Eywa, and they were growing bolder. Another of their “ships” had arrived, bringing reinforcements. Before they could be reasoned with, Dr Augustine keeping their ‘soldiers’ in line and out of the Omaticaya territory. Now there were more soldiers, more sky people here and they grew arrogant, threatening to throw aside what fragile agreements had been made for the sake of their ‘profit’ and ‘mining.’

The Olo'eyktan had ordered an increase in patrols in response to the growing threat, sending warriors to patrol both the borders and within the territory. Only an idiot would ignore the Sky People’s increasing aggressiveness, and Eytukan was no fool. He would keep the people safe and ensure the sky people would not invade their lands.

Many of the clan objected to the presence of the Sky People at all, calling for Eytukan to ban Augustine and the rest of her ‘scientists’ from entering the clan’s territory let alone from coming near the children - education or not. They were aliens descended on the land, demons of feeble body and lying tongue. Not to be trusted, they said. But the Olo'eyktan had made up his mind - the Sky People could come, but they would be watched when they did.

The first hour of their patrol had been quite. Unusually so. The uncommon tranquility of the forest was making both Ateyo and Lo'ak uneasy. Tsu'tey quickly noticing their unrest, followed suit, keeping quiet as his ears twitched in agitation and his eyes roved the thick undergrowth cautiously. It was an unnatural silence, the forests were not meant to be so quite, so… placid. It raised the hairs on the back of his neck. Silence in the jungle was the product of danger. Silence was prey hiding from predator, threats lurking and on the hunt. And so close to the Hometree such threats could prove lethal to the safety of the clan.

Distantly, he heard a sound through the senses of his Pa'li made his mount snort in agitation. The angry call of a Palulukan was clear to his ears, heard through the bond of Tsaheylu he shared with his mount. Raising his arm he let out the sharp cry signalling them to halt. His Pa'li slowed to a slow trot as he circled around, fanning out their combined senses in investigation of the noise. Palulukan were rare so close to the Hometree, tending to avoid the noise and numbers of the clan that congregated at the Hometree.

“Ateyo, what troubles you?” Lo'ak from his left, his voice even and steady. Behind him Tsu'tey eyed the jungle cautiously, eyes probing the lush greenery as if to find a predator hidden behind every fern frond and swaying vine.

“Palulukan.”

Lo'ak hissed sharply and reached for an arrow, his Pa'li stamped its feet, shifting nervously as it felt it rider's thoughts. On Ateyo's other side he heard Tsu'tey intake a quick breath and reach for his own bow - the child's bow he had helped his son make the day he began his training to become a warrior. It was almost time for Tsu'tey to make his own, his training would be completed with the next rising of the Ewya's third sister in the sky when he truly became a man.

Tsu'tey didn't speak, he knew it was better he not interrupt a warrior at times like this, it would distract him and put them at all risk. Looking over his shoulder, Ateyo gave his son a reassuring look before turning his attention back to his elder companion. Tsu’tey was still young, he had not been in combat nor had he ever faced such a fearsome creature as Palulukan

“What is it doing so close by? They usually stay as far away as the river, we're barely outside the reach of the Hometree's branches.” Lo'ak questioned. The only hint of the true effect the news had on him the skittish movements of his Pa'li, his worry bleeding through the Tsaheylu he shared with the creature.

“It may have been chasing its prey. I heard its anger call, perhaps it’s prey escaped.”

Lo'ak gave Ateyo a careful look and nodded his head, nothing more needed to be said. The Palulukan was a dangerous predator, roaming Eywa's forests and claiming her lands as its territory. On of the keenest hunters of Eywa’s creatures. Palulukan they called it, the dry-mouth bringer of fear.

Within the clan they still sung songs of their history, of the Palulukan hunting their people. A warning to their children of its danger and lethal skill as Ewya's great hunter. Of its unending persistence in the chase of its prey. The Palulukan was a temperamental creature, unused to having its prey escape. It became enraged, letting out shouts of anger to announce its rage for all to hear, calling upon Eywa in prayer before beginning the hunt anew with fresh prey.

They would not kill the creature, nor engage it in combat if they could help it. It was not Eywa's way to wase life needlessly, but it was still best to have their weapons drawn. While they would usually just avoid the creature and continue on their way, they had been ordered to patrol the area, and a Palulukan so close to the Clan's home was something they could not ignore.

His Pa'li turned and rode through the forest, aiming in the direction the sounds origin. The beating footsteps of his companions riding filling in his ears. With a cry he directed the group onwards at a fast pace, leading them through the western forest and towards the south where the river ran through the jungle and towards the Hometree.

The faint scent of Na'vi blood met his nose as they rode closer, tasting its heavy scent through the flaring operculi that ran up the sides of the Pa'li's neck. Powerful lungs drawing the metallic smell of blood deeper with each heavy breath. It was not long before he saw the splashes of red amidst the destructive path of the Palulukan, the reek of blood growing ever stronger as the trail of spilled lifeblood grew longer. He could only hope that what awaited them would not be the mangled body of one of their kin, fallen out of the Palulukan's reach but still gone to Eywa’s waiting arms.

As they followed the trail more signs of the struggle became apparent. The splatters of blood along the ground and foliage growing in size, going from small droplets to large splashes and smudges of the dark liquid. The thick grooves of the Palulukan's claws against the ground intermixed with the muddy footprints of one of the Na'vi.

Small footprints. Those of a child no older than Tsu'tey. His jaw clenched and Ateyo willed his mount faster, keeping his senses open for any sign of the child. He ignored the stinging impact of Eywa's plants whipping against their bodies and bouncing back into place as he passed.

He knew that Lo'ak would have noticed as he did and settled into his own determined silence, hoping that they might save the child despite the odds. A Na’vi child, alone and probably untrained, would not last long in the the jungle, especially if they had been put into the path of a Palulukan. But Lo'ak had always been an open soul, always optimistic and steadfast in the face of hardship, never allowing the pain and stress of battle to damper his spirit or taint his kindness. Even in the face of such low odds he would try his best to save the child if he could.

Of the two of them it had always been his elder brother who, even just returned from the death and blood if war, still took the moment to ruffle the children’s hair when they came running for greet him. Lo'ak was the one who, exhausted and not having slept in days, traveled the length of the Hometree to give Mo’at aide in tending to the wounded. It was him who, when Ateyo’s mate died in battle and he began sinking into spiraling depression, had thwacked him atop the head, pulled him into his arms and let Ateyo cry out his sorrow from endless hours before beginning the slow process of pulling his the fragile, grieving mess of a brother back together again.

Sometimes Ateyo didn’t know how Lo'ak managed it, staying an unbroken light when the darkness seemed to swell and encompass the entire world. To stand against the fear and anger and pain and just smile. Smile and hope and forgive and keep on going. He didn’t know how Lo'ak did it but then again, did it really matter? Lo'ak was his brother, and Ateyo would be there for him no matter what.

The scent of blood continued to grow stronger, tainting the air with the stench of iron, but still there was no sight of the child. Wherever the child had run to escape the Palulukan, or wherever it's body had fallen - the more realistic part of his mind input him morbidly - was not visible. They didn’t have enough time, it had already been too long. Even if the child had somehow, miraculously, survived the encounter if they didn’t find them soon then they would just bleed out. And with the amount of blood they had been finding spilled across the forest floor that possibility was growing ever more likely.

Even an adult Na'vi could not escape a Palulukan completely unharmed without ridiculous amounts of luck - there was no chance that a child, still so weak and vulnerable, would be capable of doing so. With every stride of his Pa'li the situation seemed to grow more and more hopeless, the grim pressure of the situation settling heavy on his shoulders. The longer it took them to find the child the greater the risk they would succumb to their injuries before they could even find them let alone bring them to the Tsahik for healing.

“Father!” Tsu'tey cried from behind him, his voice high and panicked but still strong and unwavering. “Father, over here!”

Whipping about he drew his Pa'li to a halt, searching to see what had made his son call his attention. Tsu'tey's eyes were wide and his face pale, his Pa'li snorting and shifting from side to side in frightened agitation. His arm was outstretched, pointing off to the right with trembling fingers, into the forest. Following his son's line of sight he saw what had caused such a breach of his sons usually stoic demeanor.

Not far from them, partially hidden on the of the path branch of one of Eywa's great trees were the dangling fingers of a Na'vi hand, barely visible through the thick jungle foliage. A steady flow of red blood ran in red rivers down the hand, dripping to the ground from limp fingers. Ateyo could not tell if the child was alive or not, but it was definitely who they had been looking for. The blue stripes of the child's skin still the lighter blue of youth, having not yet had the chance to fade to the darker blue of maturity.

Now he knew what had caused the Palulukan such rage. The child had run to one of the path branch and made its way high out of the Palulukan's reach. The predator, being more adept as it was at hunting at ground level, would have had trouble following it and had given up in favor of less troublesome prey. Ateyo urged his mount forwards, the obscuring fauna gave way to present the rest of the child. He lay high upon the path branch, higher than Ateyo would be able to reach unless he stood on his Pa'li and clambered up through the many swaying vines that hung off the giant branch.

“Lo'ak, stay on the ground and stay watchful for the Palulukan. I will climb and fetch the child.”

Lo'ak nodded and cocked a long poison dipped arrow, motioning for Tsu'tey to also arm himself similarly. It went unsaid that the child may be dead. Even if that were the case they would bring his body back to the Hometree for him to be buried and properly returned to Eywa in the way of the people. The would not just leave him there to have his corpse scavenged by whatever predator happened to pass by next.

Wasting no time, Ateyo placed his hands on his Pa'li's back, using them to balance himself as he drew his legs up and crouched on its back. Their Tsaheylu kept his Pa'li steady, letting him slowly rise to his feet and reach up to grasp a hanging root in one hand as he broke the bond with the other. His Pa'li startled without his guidance, fussing unhappily and moving away to graze on some nearby plants. In a moment he took the root in both hands and swung himself up, using his momentum to send himself twisting around the path branch so that he may land in a steady crouch atop it.

Before him lay the bloodied form of the Na'vi boy, naked and lying face down on the damp surface of the path branch. Blood pooled around the boy, soaking into the moss red and dripping over the sides of the branch in sickening rivers of red that ran heavy and thick from the seeping lattice of deep claw marks that criss-crossed the boy's back.

At first glance Ateyo was sure the child was dead, his fingers tightening into a fist and his eyes flitted shut for a moment. Another one dead. Sorrow cut a path through his chest. It was always worse when the children died. Their lives gone before they really had a chance to start living them, all the potential for life gone in a brief second. Gently he turned the child over, and his breath caught in his throat.

His chest was still rising and falling. The child was still alive!

Ateyo felt joy surge within him at the sight. If they managed to get him back fast enough Mo’at might be able to save him. As he scooped his arms under the child and lifted him from the bark of the branch he called out to his friend and son.

“Hes alive. If we get him to the Tsahik soon he may live.”

Lo'ak's sharp cry of agreement answered, followed closely by the sharp whistle of him summoning Ateyo's Pa'li back to them and calling it to follow them. Ateyo ran along the path branch, hope and determination lending him speed, cradling the the child to his chest. He could not mount his Pa'li again with the child in his arms, it would jar the boy's injuries if he were to jump down from the height of the thick branch to the ground. At this point the boy could still die, any aggravation of his injuries may well end in the boy's death.

Off to his left, obscured by the thick jungle he could hear the rhythmic music of the Pa'li running through the undergrowth. Tsu’tey and Lo’ak, then. Ateyo kept running, his long legs carrying him across the ground at a fast pace as he made his way back to the shelter of the Hometree, praying to Eywa as he did that the Tsahik would be able to save the child's life.


	4. Chapter 4

Fire ran through his veins, scorching him from the inside out. He was too hot, so why did he feel so cold? Liquid touched his lips, his head propped up and mouth open to accept the herbal medicine.

It was foul, foul like the potions that were brewed in the man's - _cauldron bubbling, foul fumes permeating the air. A man rose, skeletal thin and deathly pale. Bloody eyes staring at him from a shallow face. The Lord of madness and magic. Lord of the Dark and the death hungry apostles. Death following in his wake. He was the killer, the killed and the undying_ \- darkness and death, like the panther. Black and hungry, six strong legs charging after him with poison eyes and wicked claws. A predator in chase and teeth that snapped and claws that racked his body. The tore at him, cutting and slicing through him until all that was left were ribbons.

Iron was in the air, choking him . Metal and sickness and poison filling his lungs. His breath came uneven, mouth panting- _blood dripped to the floor, a fang pierced his arm. Long poisoned ivory drilled through his flesh and snapped at the source, fragments of shattered digging into his arm from the break. “So weak. So pathetic. Is this the great savior? Is this the 'Boy-Who-Lived?'” the snide voice taunted, its body circling him like a predator. A vulture waiting for him to die so that he could come and pick at him and devour what was left_ -

Hands fluttered around his injuries, careful and gentle against his skin. The flitted about like butterflies, landing only briefly and with such lightness he almost didn't feel the pain. They were warm, like - _the sun against his skin. Laughter and music and colour. Structures crowding the street, cheerful building bursting with character and people swarming around each other. The hooting of owls from within their cages, loud chatter from all direction. A giant, bushy and brown and kind, smiled at him. “Welcome to Diagon Alley!”_ \- as he fought the heat, shivering and curling in on himself. Lashes of pain ran through his back, bone deep and inescapable. He couldn't move. Pain when he did, pain when he didn't. He was trapped in the heat and cold and pain.

He tossed his head, groaning. The memory faded, disappearing back into the haze of fever. Where was he? Who was he?

Light touched his eyelids, muffled teals and turquoise against his half-sleeping eyes. In a second it faded and darkness took its place. Sleep took him again, in a second or an hour he did not know. Time was twisted, seconds passing in hours and hours in seconds. Daylight returned with its teal symphony through his sleep, only to slip through his finger as he tried to grasp it and reach lucidity - _Expecto Patronum! Shining silvers and whites filled the air. His heart soared, lighter than it had ever been. The stag danced for him, prancing around the room with its head held high and proud. The wolf-man praised him. “Well done..."_ \- the voice was different. Soft and smooth and accented to his ears.

The voices taunted him from the precipice of unconsciousness. The were outside his cage, outside his fever prison. Muffled voices speaking through immaterial bars, reaching him even through the layers of sweat, blood, cloudy conscious, chilling cold and permeating heat.

"...and if he survives the night...”

“... nothing more I can ...”

“... up to Eywa to decide...”

He could hear them. He could understand them. A foreign language from foreign mouths, unknown and new but fully understood - _whispers of nightmares and murmurs of memory. Cold voice, cruel laughter, flat and dead. “Kill the spare.” Green light flashed, beautiful and terrible as it hit its target. The boy fell and he screamed. Smooth wood in his hand, words at his lips. Light between them, exploding and imploding and consuming his world all at once_ – his eyes flickered open and his body jerked, the movement aggravating his wounds and sending tremors of fire a'cluster through his body. Brightness assaulted his vision, a clash of blinding colours. The scent of herbs tickling his senses as a pair of luminous golden eyes peered curiously into his own, a blue hand resting reassuringly against his forearm. Golden jewels fitted into an angular face, patterned blue skin, so similar to his own yet still so different.

“Mo'at! Father! He's awake...!”

He followed the sound, fighting the way through the murky depths that clouded his mind and forcing himself to stay at the surface for a painful moment.

As he listened to the voices talk he grew more lucid, using the words as an anchor in his struggle against the current seeking to pull him back into oblivion. Panic seized him for a second as the pull of numbing sleep faded and was replaced by the sharp sting of pain stretching over his back with a sudden intensity that made him gasp in agony - _souls rent apart, fragments pulled together in a moment of pain and power only to be destroyed in the very same instant. Red eye were glassy, staring at him from the damp ground. Still and dead and dead and dead. The light grew. It enveloped and spread, touching his body in all places and filling him from the inside out. In a moment, just like his slain foe, he was gone_ \- the pain would not be ignored and it scream for his attention.

The darkness returning with gentle invitation, wishing him back and promising him an escape from his torture. He accepted, letting his mind be pulled back into the warm void and enveloped within its embrace. Submerging him back into its resting waters and leaving but a fading phantom of the hurt aching at his back.

.

Tsu'tey watched the sleeping boy with patient interest from his place beside the makeshift bedding that had been lain on the floor of the chamber. It was the Tashik's chamber, a space within the uppermost levels of the Hometree. Where the Tsahik brought the sick and injured so that the may rest and be treated away from the bustle and noise of the clan. He had been visiting the chamber a lot recently, coming regularly to sit beside the slumbering child and wait for his awakening.

He didn't know why he kept visiting. The first time he had come with his father, only several hours after bringing the boy in with the intent of checking if the child would survive his injuries. Mo'at had been unable to answer the question, explaining that it was Eywa's will that decided the child's fate. His injuries were too grave, she had said sadly, and though she had done what she could to help it might not be enough.

As she talked Tsu'tey had noticed the boy stirring, his eyelid fluttering and his brows furrowing in pain. His head twitched to the side but he settled easily enough. Not willing to alert the adults in case it was just another fever dream. He approached the other boy, crouching down beside him. He watched the boy, tail swishing contently over the living wood of the floor.

The boy was pretty enough, Tsu'tey admitted reluctantly, if a bit small. By his guess the boy couldn't be older than thirteen passings of Eywa's sister, but even then he was too small. The boy was thin, ribs too pronounced and wrists twig thin. He looked starved, something Mo'at had been incensed about when they first brought in the boy. When he got better he would have to eat a lot, then he would look less like a scrawny Nantang and more like a Na'vi.

When he had more weight he would look better, Tsu'tey concluded. His gaunt feature were making his stripes look stretched and unhealthy. A shame. They were nice stripes, thick and clear against his skin. Tsu'tey reached out a hand, brushing it against the slumbering boy's arm, tracing the patterns and circling the pinpoints of Eywa's light up his arm from wrist to shoulder.

A loud gasp made him start, his tail freezing and his eyes widening at the unexpected noise. Not a second later the boys eyes flew open and he jerked upright, his body moving only to collapse back down with a pained groan. Calling out for his father and the Tsahik, Tsu'tey had continued to watch him, leaning in until his gaze was filled with the boy's childishly elegant features.

He felt a shiver go down his spine and his breath hitch as he looked deep into the boy's eyes. They were so alive. Golden depths molten with emotion and brimming with a will that surpassed all else. It was like looking into a star, such a distant and small light yet it fought with untiring stubbornness to be seen, to be alive and recognized. Light and fire and heat stretching across all space to reach out and touch all.

Only a moment those eyes closed, the star stolen from his view by a joint theft at the hands of pain and exhaustion. Tsu'tey didn't know what he was feeling, awe perhaps, or affection, maybe just pure curiosity even. Whoever the boy was he was different, special in a way nothing had ever been before in Tsu'tey's eyes. His brows furrowed as he stepped aside to let Mo'at get a better look at the boy. The Tsahik poked and prodded as she examined him for any strain on his injuries or new developments.

_Why did he feel that?_

The thought had continued to flutter about at the forefront of his mind even days after the boy's brief waking. Creeping into his head as he practiced his archery and his Pa'li riding, as he ate and sang social songs with his clanmates, even in the silent moments before he slumbered. It was that question that drove him to visit the Tsahik's chamber again and again. One visit became two and two became three and then more, and each and every time Tsu'tey left still wondering why.

Before he knew it he had fallen into a habit of visiting the boy whenever he had a few hours to spare between his training to become an Omatikaya warrior and the time spent with his friends and family. Neytiri and Sylwanin noticed his absences, the younger complaining their lack of time together to him and blackmailing him with threats of her older sister should he not make an effort to spend more time with her. Neytiri was his closest friend, even if she was still not much older than a child, but even then he couldn't help but he glad that she did not question where he disappeared off to.

“Tsu'tey,” She had said “if you leave me to follow Sylwanin around like some lost Fwampop one more time, I will tie you to my Pa'li and drag you away. Go disappear again, but when you come back you must come swimming with me – I want to find some shells to weave into a necklace for mother. If you don't, I'll tell Sylwanin you wish for her advice in how to woo a mate.”

And that had been that.

Sylwanin, especially when it came to all matters romance, was terrifying. She was the top archer in the clan, and had never once missed a mark. That in itself was enough to intimidate, but nothing compared to the moods she got into when concerning love. To put it simply Sylwanin was a romantic, an extreme one, and if given the chance she could recited entire love ballads from memory alone.

Tsu'tey had no intention of listening to another rendition of Ez'lath and Ske'lal's epic love, no matter how much it was a 'classic.'

Once again he found himself watching the boys sleep, his legs going numb from sitting for so long and his feelings still a mystery. It had now been five days since they had brought the boy in and his improvement was visible. His skin had darkened slightly, losing the paleness of blood loss as the days passed and revealing the boy to be older than they had thought, at least a year older.

Tsu'tey had thought he had lived thirteen passing's of Eywa's sister, thirteen years as the sky people said. But he was at least fourteen, something that had driven the Tsahik's tail to lash angrily from side to side and hissing as she check over his wounds once again. He was too small, too thin for a boy his age, and Mo'at had had no choice but to concluded that the boy' starvation was no new thing. But rather a prolonged lack of food over a number of years, perhaps even since his birth.

His fever had broken after three days. The long wounds left by the Palulukan's claws still criss-crossed his back but they were beginning to heal. He was lucky, infection had not set it's deadly hands on the boy as Mo'at had feared it would. His breathing was more steady now, deeper and slower, healthier than the shallow panting of his breath when they had first found him. Mo'at hoped the boy would wake soon, the ongoing sleep was improving his health but would a bad omen if it continued for much longer.

He wasn't one of the Omatikaya, that much was certain, but everything else about the boy was a mystery. If the boy woke up- _when_ the boy woke up, Tsu'tey corrected - they would be able to ask him his name and why he'd been out alone in the jungle. And, Tsu'tey admitted reluctantly, they would be able to take the boy back to his family and clan.

His reluctance at the thought of the boy leaving was another thing he'd been thinking about. Another topic to add to his already busy mind. He knew it would be better if the boy was with his family, they would be missing him and it would be wrong to keep him from his clan. Especially since the Omatikaya clan was on friendly terms with all the nearby clans - the Na'vi didn't believe in war against their own kind, wasting Eywa's gift of life in such a way was unthinkable. Keeping the boy from returning to his own clan was a sure fire way to destroy diplomatic relations between the Omaticaya and which ever clan the boy came from.

Tsu'tey sighed heavily, resting his face in his hands and peeking at the boy through his obscuring fingers as his tail shifting distractedly behind him, thumping lightly against the ground. His questions remained unanswered and his feelings befuddled. To top it all off all this self-evaluation and doubt was giving him a headache.

A sound behind him made his ears flicker and his head turn so that he may look over his shoulder. Striding towards him with all the feline grace of a grown Na'vi was the Tsahik. Her face was set in its usual serious expression, the lines worn into her face by age all the more evident for her frown. He got the feeling she wasn't here to check up on her patient.

Tsu'tey nodded his head at her, raising a hand to his forehead and greeting her with the customary _'I see you'_. He staying seated, watching her from his place by the stranger's side as she drew closer. Mo'at returned the gesture and crouched next to him. Crouching was more comfortable when you had a tail to look out for, less of a risk of accidentally sitting on it.

“You are very interested in this stranger.” Mo'at said, her head tilted as she regarded him with her wise old eyes. The beads in her hair rattled at the movement, clinking and clanking against the many necklaces that made up that days attire.

The Tsahik often wore such shawls, not only because it was required as a mark of her position in the clan but because her daughters often helped her make them. Together they could often be seen gathered in the firelight after the night's meal, sitting together and stringing carefully carved beads onto long pieces of twine, Eytukan sitting beside them and watching is family work as he spoke with the warriors.

It wasn't a question but Tsu'tey nodded anyway, his voice coming a moment later. “He's interesting.”

The Tsahik gave him a knowing look, sad for all that it was understanding. It felt wrong to see her look so while talking about him, while talking about him and the boy. It brought forth an uncomfortably foreboding feeling to see her so. Her expression faded within moments and a slight smile graced her lips.

“Do not get too attached. To hold a half-dead stranger dear is to mourn. Mourn when they die and mourn when they live to leave and return home. There is little chance he will stay with us if he survives. Either way it will end in pain and your heart is still young, it should not feel such pain. ”

Tsu'tey sighed. His tail whipping from side to side in frustration as once again his thoughts ran in endless circles, treading the same path over and over until he felt lost within his own mind. He stared down steadily at the boy's lax face, his eyes tracing the soft features of his jaws and cheeks. He was young, young enough that he should still have baby fat and not be the skinny figure he was now. He would probably be quite handsome when he grew up and gained some weight, or at least what the girls called handsome - Tsu'tey had never really thought of anyone that way.

“But... If he doesn't have a clan then will he stay?”

“If that is Eywa's will then that is what will be.” Mo'at said, her voice taking on an amused quality. The mirth swam below her smooth tones, only barely detectable. Tsu'tey didn't reply, mulling his thoughts instead. The pensive look draped across his face made Mo'at smile slightly as she put a hand on his shoulder reassuringly, squeezing gently and getting to her feet. She left with little fanfare, just the sound of padding footsteps fading into the distance.

Tsu'tey was left alone in the presence of the unconscious boy once again, his eyes unfocused as they stared at the other boy, his mind on other matters.


	5. Chapter 5

He woke slowly, each pump and beat of his heart drawing him closer to awareness. It was a gentle wake, lethargic until the last moment when his eyes blinked open and the lingering vestiges of sleep faded away. There was pain now, an heavy drumbeat of hurt that seemed to vibrate all the way down to his bones. He groaned beneath his breath, his voice raw and throat dry. He rolled his shoulder tentatively and flinched at the sudden spike of pain. Moving, it seemed, was not something he would be doing today.

Merlin, that hurt. He felt like he'd been run over by a... by a thing, a something. A three tonne something with sharp spikes. What happened? And where was he?

A hand came down on his arm, warm and calloused, stilling him with gentle pressure. "Don't move, you'll hurt yourself."

He followed the voice and he found himself staring into golden eyes once again. It was a sight he'd seen once before in a fever dream, though at the time he hadn't known if what he was seeing were real or just some crazed imagining. He was awake now, and the face remained. Blue and almost feline in appearance with prominent cheekbones, wide deep eyes and a stern mouth set in a frown. He was young, he realized at closer inspection. Who ever this was couldn't be that much older than him.

"Who-"are you? He asked but the words faltered in his throat, coming out rough and cracked.

Only a moment later a water skin touched his lips, organic and waxy in texture as it tipped a trickling stream of cool, clean water between his lips. Drip by drip it washed away the stale taste in his mouth and soothed the harshness of his throat. He drank desperately, gulping down every drop that touched his lips, but all too soon the water skin was being drawn back, disappearing from his line of sight.

He breathed a sigh and relaxed back onto the woven mats, sleepily tracing his fingers over the dry flaxen texture. Now that his thirst had been sated, it was becoming increasing hard to keep his eyes open. Sitting up was out of the question, not when lying down was already so exhausting.

There was movement at the edge of his vision, and he risked turning his head for a better look. It was a stupid idea, even that small movement made him gasp with pain. He waited it out, setting his eyes determinedly on the figure beside him. The boy was sitting off to his left with a number of carved wooden bowls filled with herbs and other plant matter splayed out on the floor around him.

As he watched the boy poked through the plants, examining each bowl before finally selecting one. When the boy saw him watching he frowned reproachfully and shuffled closer, bringing the bowl with him. "I told you not to move."

"Who are you?"

"Tsu'tey. Eat this, Mo'at said to give it to you if you woke up." Tsu'tey said, brandishing a florescent leaf from within the bowl in front of his face. He gave it a suspicious sniff and screwed up his nose at the pungent herbal scent, but opened his mouth submissively at an impatient look from Tsu'tey.

Tsu'tey dropped the leaf in his mouth and he hesitantly began to chew, making a face at the taste. It tasted worse than it smelled, all bitter and sour. Tsu'tey noticed his expression and scowled. "Don't complain. It's supposed to help with the pain. We couldn't give one to you earlier or you might have choked on it."

He grimaced and swallowed the rest, only for Tsu'tey to shove another one in his face. He took that one without complaint, letting his mind wander to try and distract himself from the taste. The only thing he could remember was waking up in the jungle and being chased by a giant panther monster and only just getting away.

He swallowed down the last bitter remains of the leaf and started talking before Tsu'tey could assault him with another. "Where am I? What is this place? What happened to the thing that was chasing me?"

Seeing that he wouldn't taken anymore, Tsu'tey drew back and placed the bowl on the floor. "You are in the hometree on the Omaticaya Clan. The Palulukan is gone, it will not hurt you any more."

The Omaticaya Clan. The name was unfamiliar, as were many of the other thing Tsu'tey mentioned. He still had so many more questions. What was a hometree? Who were the Omaticaya? Supposedly the Palulukan was the huge panther thing that had been chasing him earlier, but what was it?

He opened his mouth to ask but Tsu'tey cut him off. "How do your injuries feel now?"

It made him pause, and he realized he could barely feel the pain anymore. The injuries were still there, he doubted there was an medicinal herb that could get rid of them that easily, but the pain had been reduced to a dull thrum in the muscles of his back. He gave an experimental shift but stilled quickly when Tsu'tey gave a warning hiss.

"Idiot. Just because you don't feel them doesn't mean they aren't there."

He settled down without another word. He could see the sense in Tsu'tey's words and he didn't fancy opening his wounds again.

Tsu'tey wandered away and returned with another wooden bowl in hand. He set it down at the edge of the woven mat. He peered forward curiously, trying to get a better look inside the bowl from his prone position. Seeing this, Tsu'tey smirked and dipped his finger in, picking out what looked to be a large white grub and holding it before his face.

"You must be hungry. Eat, it will help you regain your strength."

He eyed the grub hesitantly. Tsu'tey seemed pretty confident it was edible, and maybe it was. Maybe it was even delicious. He didn't know. He had no frame of reference for this. He wavered on the decision, looking back between the thick grub, which now that he looked, was still wriggling a bit and Tsu'tey's encouraging expression.

His stomach growled and hunger won out. At this point food was food, and he wasn't about to turn it away just because it wriggled a little. He accepted the grub, taking care not to let it fall between his still week fingers. He eyed it cautiously for another moment before popping it in his mouth and chewing. The texture was a bit odd, unexpectedly chewy, and the flavor wasn't anything remarkable, slightly sweet if mostly bland. It was on the better side of edible, and that was enough, it seemed, to awaken his stomach.

His stomach roared in protest, demanding more food. Tsu'tey smirked and handed him another grub, then another as he made quick work of the first. He ate them ravenously, with little care for the taste or texture.

The bowl was almost empty by the time he'd finished eating. He regarded the sad few grubs at the bottom of the bowl with a little regret, noticing Tsu'tey hadn't eaten any. He glanced up at the other boy when Tsu'tey offered him another grub. "You have that one."

Tsu'tey looked down at the grub and shrugged. He dropped the grub in his mouth and chewed, swallowing a moment later.

"Do you want any more?" Tsu'tey asked.

He shook his head. "I'm full, I don't think I could eat more."

Tsu'tey nodded and picked up the bowl. "Try to sleep now. You still need to heal." He said, then stood up and carried the bowl away again.

He relaxed against the woven mats, finally free from pain and hunger. His ears twitched and he listened drowsily to Tsu'tey's footsteps as he moved around the cavern and the clink of the bowls against the wooden floor of the cavern as Tsu'tey put them all away.

Soft footstep told him Tsu'tey had returned to sitting next to him, where his tail started to sway contently. He was still listening to the rhythmic swish of Tsu'tey's tail along the floor when he fell asleep, his exhaustion catching up with him once again.

.

He woke between one breath and the next, not making a sound as his eyes slipped open. As he blinked himself awake he peered around the room. The pain numbing leaves had worn off sometime during his sleep and he kept still rather than risk increasing the pain.

Tsu'tey was not anywhere to be seen, instead an older woman sat by his side with lines of flaxen thread spread around her. Every few moments she would pluck a strand from the ground and weave it deftly between her fingers, joining it to the intricate series of rope that was growing in her lap.

Her posture was straight and proud, and when her eyes settled on him he could see the wisdom within her old eyes. She wasn't surprised to see him awake and merely cast a surveying eye over him before returning to her weaving. He had no doubt it was, at most, a hobby for her. There was a sense of importance about her, more than what would belong to a weaver he imagined.

Despite her eyes being on him her fingers continued weaving flawlessly, darting in and out through the loops of the weave as if by their own will. "Tsu'tey said you had woken. I am Mo'at, Tsahik of the Omaticaya."

The name was familiar. He could vaugely remember Tsu'tey mentioning her at one point, when talking about the pain numbing leaves he had all but shoved down his throat. He mulled over her words, watching her weave as he thought. While he understood what Mo'at was saying, most of what it meant was still a mystery. The Omaticaya Clan, Tsu'tey had talked about that too. But what was a Tsahik?

A second later her fingers stilled in their weaving, jolting him out of his thoughts. She placed the weave aside and got to her feet, walking across the room. She returned with several wooden bowls in hand.

"Turn over, I need to check your wounds again." Mo'at said as she settled beside him once again. With her help he managed to turn himself gingerly onto his stomach, baring his back to her ministrations. Sure finger probed at the edged of the wounds, testing gently at the healing skin. He flinched at the touch and tried to keep still as she started applying a thick paste over the worst of the wounds. The paste was cold and slimy with a smell that made his nose wrinkle. It stung where it touched each wound, almost feeling like it was burning right into him.

As she worked she spoke."We found you in the jungle some days ago. Your injuries were severe and we were not sure you would live. If we had not found you, it is certain you would have died."

"Thank you for saving me."

Mo'at snorted and applied another handful off cold paste to his back, making him squirm and hiss with discomfort.

"You are of the Na'vi, and a child. We would not have left you to die."

He turned his head, pressing a cheek to the woven mat and peering at her over his shoulder. "Thank you anyway."

Mo'at paused in her motions and sent him an amused look. "If only my daughters were as well behaved as you, boy." She said, before taking a final look over his back. The wounds could barely be seen anymore, each one covered in a thick layer of viscous green paste. He couldn't even feel them over the stinging sensation of the paste she had applied.

"Stay on your back and do not move. It must sink in and cleanse the wounds."

He made a sound of agreement. Though he tried to keep still, he wasn't quite able to stop from squirming in discomfort. Finally he forced himself to compromise, limiting his movement to the tapping of his fingers against the woven mat and the restless thumping of his tail across the back of his legs. It was just enough movement to release the need to squirm with discomfort without affecting the area in question.

Mo'at watched this all with a knowing smile from where she sat beside him.

"Are you hungry again? Tsu'tey says you ate the last time you were awake."

He went to shake his head, then stopped remembered he wasn't supposed to move. "I'm not hungry. Where is Tsu'tey anyway?"

Mo'at smiled. "He is out practicing with his bow. He is nearing manhood and soon he will undergo Uniltaron, and then when he is ready, Iknimaya."

He made a curious noise. "Uniltaron?"

"The Dream Hunt, where he will seek his spirit animal and be accepted as a true member of the Omaticaya. Once that is done he will have the right to perform Iknimaya and find his Ikran."

Tsu'ety couldn't be that much older than him, maybe a couple of years at most. Did that mean he too would be a man in a couple of years? The thought was a novel one. While he didn't regard himself as a child, it was still amusing to think of himself becoming an adult so soon. The whole thing sounded interesting, though if an Ikran was anything like a Palulukan or whatever it was called, he wasn't sure he wanted anything to do with it.

Mo'at seemed to sense his confusion. "You need not worry about it, boy, your own Uniltaron is likely a year or two away yet. Now we have things to discuss. What is your name, child? "

His name. What was his name? He couldn't remember. He couldn't remember anything beyond waking up in the forest and being attacked by the Palulukan. Everything before that was just... blank.

He sat up, hardly noticing when his injuries twinged in protest."I dont- I don't know. I can't remember."

Mo'at frowned, her expression growing heavy with concern. "You do not remember your name?"

"I can't remember anything. There's nothing. Just waking up in the middle of the forest and... I can't- It's all gone-"

The full reality of the situation was just starting to sink in. He had no name, no past, no nothing. He was nothing. Tears stung the corners of his eyes as he tried in vain to remember anything, anything at all. There was Tsu'tey, the Palulukan, the forest, and then nothing. It was like running up against a brick wall. No matter what angle he tried to approach, he ended up with nothing. He couldn't remember if he had parents, siblings, friends, nothing. It was all gone. Blank.

He was sniffling by the end, the first wet tears stinging at his eyes. Mo'at came closer and laid a kind hand on his shoulder. She let him stay that way until he ran out of tears, not speaking a word until he wiped away the last of them.

"While it has not happened in many generations, losing memory it is something we have seen before. I will talk to the Olo'eyktan and we will talk to the nearby clans, see if you come from one of them."

"What if I don't? What if we never find out who I am?"

The prospect of being alone, nameless, forever loomed in his mind and it was all he could do not to start crying again. If he didn't belong to a clan then where did he belong? Nowhere, that's where. He could already imagine what it would be like. He would be nothing, just a nameless ghost no one would ever recognize or love. His head bowed under the weight of his future, and he stared at his hands clenched in his lap.

Mo'a chose that moment to speak. "Then you will become one of the Omaticaya Clan, and be one of us."

He jerked his head up and stared at her disbelievingly, a spark of hope blossoming in his chest. "You would do that?"

"You are one of the Na'vi. From our clan or not, you are one of our kin."

"I- Thank you."

"I do not need thanks for this, child. Now lie down again and rest, you are still healing."

He nodded gladly and eased himself back down, settling as comfortably as he could into the woven mat. The discomfort in his back was gone, replaced by a bone deep numbness that was already starting to lull him back towards drowsiness. He let it, too mentally exhausted to fight to stay awake.

As he dropped off he thought he felt a hand on his head, gently stroking his hair just once before drawing back.

.

Tsu'tey was there the next time he woke, his presence a warm comfort at his side. He turned to lie on his side facing Tsu'tey and gave the other boy a tentative smile. Tsu'tey stared at him for a moment, mouth set into a frown that didn't reach his eyes, before he gave a hesitant smile of his own. Tsu'tey spent so much time frowning that he seemed ridiculously unsure of the entire process. It was enough to make his smile widen.

Tsu'tey noticed and scowled, flicking his tail and turning to grab something out of a bowl. When he turned back he had another of the pain-numbing leaves in his hand. He made a face at the thought of eating them again, but Tsu'tey just held the leaf closer.

In the end he gave in without too much resistance, eating the leaf while making a big show of it to let Tsu'tey know just how he felt about it. When he was done making wild grimaces and clutching at his throat, he couldn't help but notice the small smile playing on Tsu'tey's lips. It was small and genuine, and it made Tsu'teys eyes glow gold with warmth and happiness.

He decided it was worthy eating any number of disgusting medicinal leaves to see Tsu'tey smile like that again.

Once he had swallowed down the last of the leaves, Tsu'ety held out a hand and helped him to his feet. He swayed a bit, still tired and off balance, but Tsu'tey was quick to steady him.

"Mo'at said you are healed enough to come eat with the clan. The evening meal is soon, if you would like to come."

The idea of getting out and moving, having a proper look around, was too good to resist. So he nodded quickly and followed Tsu'tey as the other boy set off at a steady, but slow, pace.  
Now that he had a better chance to look around, he could see the cavern he had been in was in fact a natural hollow chamber in what seemed to be a huge tree. The chamber soon opened out, and he gaped at the sight that met his eyes. They were inside a tree, one that had to be a good 150 meters tall. It stretched high above them, made from what seemed to be several thinner tree trucks growing together to form one larger whole. The interior hollow and filled with smaller trunks that rose in gentle spirals around one another in a double helix that reached all the way to the top. The interior was dark, lit only by the occasion fire at ground level and the few weak beams of evening light that broke through high up where the branches must spread.

He took in the sight with awe and Tsu'tey waited beside him, letting him. It was, in the greatest sense of the word, incredible. So this was the hometree. He had never seen anything like it before, and from what he could see, it appeared to be act as the the home to the entire clan. He could see now how fitting the name was.

They stood side by side for a while, just looking, before Tsu'tey broke the silence.

"Mo'at told me you lost your memory."

He startled a bit at the question. "Yes, I can't remember anything before being attack the by the Palulukan. Does it... bother you?"

He liked Tsu'tey. The other boy was kind and fun, though he tried to hide it behind all his scowls and frowns. But he was different now. He couldn't remember who he was, where he was from, any of it. He was blank. What if Tsu'tey hated him for it?

Tsu'tey turned to look at him. "Why would it?" He asked, as if the idea had never even occurred to him.

And perhaps it hadn't, he realized with a no small amount of relief. Tsu'tey truly didn't care that he didn't remember anything about himself. He liked him anyway.

He smiled. "No reason. No reason at all."

A call sounded in the distance, growing louder as more voices picked it up and carried it to even greater heights. His ear twitched as he listened. It sounded almost like singing.

Tsu'tey made a pleased sound. "The evening meal is about to begin. Come, we should go down."

Tsu'tey didn't wait for him to answer, already setting off towards the twining tree trunks at the center of the tree. He followed him gladly, picking up the pace a bit to catch up.  
As they neared the spiraling trunks it became apparent just how high up they were. They were somewhere near halfway up the hometree, and the ground seemed endlessly far away when he peered over the edge of the trunk. He shuffled nervously away from the edge, planting himself firmly in the center of the path the trunk provided.

When he looked up he found Tsu'tey staring at him with an air of amusement. Tsu'tey snorted and started walking again, leaving him feeling rather embarrassed as he followed. He watched, curious how Tsu'tey seemed to move with complete confidence despite the fact they were almost 70 meters in the air with no rail protecting them from falling to their deaths.

As he watched he realized something. With each step Tsu'tey's tail swayed, adjusting just so in order to keep his balance. Now that he thought about it, he had yet to see either Tsu'ety or Mo'at do anything even resembling a stumble of loss of balance. Perhaps it was because he had only known the two a couple of hours in total, but somehow he doubted that was the case. They, as a species, were designed to have good balance. It made sense. That way there was little chance of tripping and falling off the precariously high tree system that made up their home.

A look over his shoulder told him all he needed to know. The entire time he had been walking, even without his notice, his own tail had been doing the exact same thing as Tsu'tey's. He thought this over and with his next step made an effort to walk more confidently. As it was, shuffling around nervously trying to avoid the edges was more likely to end up with him falling than just walking normally.

More and more Na'vi were joining the flow of people descending the spiraling trunks, all moving with the same graceful loping stride as they calmly walked downwards. He looked around, taking them in as subtly as he could as he followed close behind Tsu'tey. There were women and men, children and elders, all of them blue-skinned and striped. Their bodies were largely uncovered, clad only in loincloths and sometimes with woven plates of armor wrapped around their upper stomach. Many wore what looked to be stings of beads, even feathers, around their necks and tied into their braids.

When the arrived at the ground the Na'vi spread out, drifting to the different fires lit around the large area and sitting down in rings around the them. Many were already sitting, talking together as they passed around wooden bowls full of food.

His stomach gave a slight rumble at the sight and he hastened after Tsu'tey. He fell into step with him, walking too his left and keeping close as he looked curiously around.

"Be careful not to step on anyone's tail." Tsu'tey said as the approach one of the fires. It was already ringed with people sitting around it, and he was glad for Tsu'tey's warning when he realized they would have to pick their way through the people to get to where he could see Mo'at sitting near the center of the circle.

"Usually I would sit with my father and his brother, over there." He said, gesturing to the other side of the circle. "But Mo'at wants you to sit near to her so she can keep an eye on your wounds and make sure you're okay."

He felt guilty at forcing Tsu'tey to sit apart form his family, but at the same time he couldn't help but be relieved Tsu'tey would be sitting beside him. It was his first time seeing the rest of the clan,and he only knew Tsu'tey and Mo'at. Despite Mo'at wanting him to sit close by, he knew she had her own family and would probably spend her time with them. Tsu'tey being there meant he wouldn't be completely alone.

As they made their way to the center of the circle and couple of people turned to look at him. He gave them a hesitant smile and turned his eyes downwards, keeping an eye on where his feet were going. He could remember how painful it had been when he'd fallen on his tail in the forest and he doubted having his tail stepped on would feel much better. All the more reason to make sure he didn't step on anyone else's.

When they reached where Mo'at was sitting they sat down, a couple of people nearby moving to make room for them. Mo'at was sitting next to a man and two girls. He regarded them curiously. Mo'at had said something about having daughters, perhaps these were them? Tsu'tey noticed him looking and explained.

"Those are Neytiri and Sylwanin, Mo'at's daughters. Beside her is Eytukan, he is her mate and the Olo'eyktan."

"Olo'eyktan?"

"The leader of the clan, like Mo'at is the Tsahik."

"Oh." He said. "What's a Tsahik?"

Someone handed Tsu'tey a wooden bowl form further down the circle and he picked out what seemed to be a couple of berries. Then Tsu'tey passed the bowl on to him. A looked inside proved it was indeed berries and he copied Tsu'tey, taking a few before passing it on again. He ate them one by one, looking around the circle as Tsu'tey talked.

The meal was communal, all food shared equally between the people. There were several other bowls being circulated around, and more food being cooked on the fire. From what he could see, most of what was being cooked were different types of large insects, all of which were neatly deposited in empty bowls and handed around as soon as the finished cooking.

"The Tsahik is the clan's connection to Eywa. She is the spiritual leader of the clan. It is traditional for the Tsahik and the Olo'eyktan to be mates, together they lead the clan in body and spirit."

He looked towards Mo'at. It wasn't hard to imagine her as spiritual leader of the clan. She had an air about her that demanded respect, not only for power, but for the deep wisdom she possessed. He looked up and met his eyes, tilting her head in acknowledgement and making a gesture with her hand. Beside him Tsu'tey returned the same gesture.

Mo'at looked away again, resuming conversation with the man at her side. His face was stern and his eyes sharp, with an expression that reminded him to Tsu'tey's own stony exterior. His shoulders were adorned with a mantle of bristling feathers and grasses in many different colours, collared on each side of his neck by pieces of thick bone. Around his neck was a necklace of smooth fangs and upon his head rested a woven headset tied through his hair. He looked every part the chieftain of a clan.

He was jolted from his musings as Tsu'tey handed him another bowl. He looked down and found it full of familiar white grubs. This time he did not hesitate, selecting two from the bowl and eating them as he passed the bowl on. They tasted just as he remembered.

He looked up and was met with almost a dozen pairs of golden eyes. Around the circle, several people were watching him intently. It made him uneasy and he quickly looked away, turning to Tsu'tey.

"Why are they staring at me?"

"They're curious. You survived a Palulukan and were found in the jungle. That is not something that has happened before."

"Really?"

"Yes, most clans keep their children close to the hometree until after Uniltaron. Even I am not allowed far unless I am with an adult."

"That makes sense." With creatures like the Palulukan and who knew what else roaming around the jungle it was no wonder that the clan kept a close eye on their children. He would too if he was a parent living here.  
"  
What is more unusual is that you survived the encounter. They are curious to how you survived when the Palulukan is known to kill even adult Na'vi easily."

"I was just lucky. I managed to run somewhere it couldn't follow."

Tsu'tey hummed and handed him another bowl, this one filled with what looked to be strips of dried meat. "Still, it is a feat to be admired."

He didn't reply, chewing thoughtfully on one of the strips of meat. He didn't particularly want to be admired, not for something live running for his life in any case. He looked around the circle again. A few people were still watching him, but many had resumed conversation and seemed to have lost interest in him entirely. He relaxed a bit at that. It seemed their curiosity was only temporary.

He spent the rest of the meal thinking in comfortable silence, speaking only to ask Tsu'tey questions whenever he came across another gap in his knowledge. By the end of the meal he was quite exhausted, blinking valiantly to try and fight off the fall of his eyelids and listing heavily to one side until he was almost leaning against Tsu'tey. The light of the fire was a warm against his skin, lulling him even more into content drowsiness.

He stayed that way a while, leaning against Tsu'tey's side and listening sleepily to the noise of conversation around him. Finally Tsu'tey shook his shoulder, waking him up again.

"It would be more comfortable for you to sleep in the eywa k'sey nivi'bri'sta than down here on the ground. Come, I will show you where they are."

"What's a eywa k'sey nivi'bri'sta?" He mumbled, shuffling sleepily after Tsu'tey as they made their way back towards the central spiral.

"It means 'safe in the arms of Eywa'. It is where we sleep. They are large plants woven to form a cocoon and hung from the hometree."

He tried visualizing it, but gave up when all his sleep addled mind could come up with was something resembling a cross between a spider's web and a giant caterpillars cocoon. The image was more odd than anything. He nodded anyway, and followed Tsu'tey sleepily as they walked their way up through the spiraling trunks.

They passed the path leading off to the cavern he'd been in before, climbing even higher until they were almost to the top of the hometree. As they rose he caught the first glimpses of what Tsu'tey had been talking about. Higher in the hometree the branches spread together, growing both out of and through the hometree. It created a network on interconnecting pathways through the top area of the hometree. From these branches hung what looked like woven hammocks, plant like in texture and sandy white in colour.

The climb had chased away some of sleepiness, enough that he could examine the hammocks with real interest. While white seemed to be the main colour he could see a few splashes of colour here and there where patterns had been woven into the hammocks. Some were large enough to hold several people, while others were smaller, obviously intended for only one occupant.

They stepped of the central spiral not long after, walking out across the thick branches until they reached one of the hammocks. It was a larger one, meant for more than one, with patterns of blue and orange woven through the white material. Tsu'tey gestured to it as they passed.

"This is the one my father and I sleep in. I'll show you one of the spare ones nearby."

He nodded, feeling vaguely relieved that Tsu'tey hadn't offered to let him sleep there with them. The Na'vi were a very social people, that much was clear. They ate meals together as a community, and slept together as families. He didn't want to intrude. Not when he'd already forced Tsu'tey to eat with him rather than with his family.

They stopped in front of one of the smaller hammocks. This one was plain, without any of the woven decorations he'd seen on many of the larger ones. It was impersonal in comparison. An obvious spare rather than the intricately personalized ones he'd seen.

Now that he got a closer look he could see that the hammocks were not simply tied to the hometree, but grown into it. The hammocks were made of living plant he realized with a smile, woven into shape yes, but ultimately still alive. The ends of the hammocks were attached with curving roots that sank into the branches of the hometree, sustaining itself from it. It was incredible. Another testament to the Na'vi's respect and coexistence with nature.

He knelt down, brushing his fingers against the material. It felt dry and smooth, and when he pushed against it it gave way a bit, bending around the pressure. Sturdy then, but flexible enough not to be uncomfortable.

Tsu'tey watched him prod at it a moment longer, a small smile quirking his lips. Then he knelt down next to him.

"Watch."

He touched a finger to the edge of the hammock, and the strands started glowing a light violet. He brushed his hand across it and the edge moved in that direction, stretching over to create a complete cocoon. As the glow faded it stopped moving, settling back into seeming lifelessness. He grinned at Tsu'tey, stroking a finger over the fading purple glow.

"That's amazing."

Tsu'tey shrugged, but he was still smiling none the less.

He played with the hammock plant a while longer, delighting in making it glow beneath his touch and move back and forwards. It was almost like magic, like the plant was a sentient being and could understand where he wanted it to move.

Finally he yawned, his sleepiness catching up with him once again. It was embarrassing. Here he was, only a couple of years off being a man by Mo'at's reckoning, and he was acting like a tired infant, unable to stay awake. Tsu'tey just smirked and showed him how to lead down into the hammock.

Once Tsu'tey had gotten out again he dropped down, landing awkwardly in the hammock. It wasn't quite the practiced movement Tsu'tey had done, but it was almost there. He settled down into the hammock, lying on his side with an arm beneath his head. He would prefer to sleep on his back, but at this point it wouldn't be worth the pain.

He looked up at Tsu'tey. "I'll see you tomorrow right?"

Tsu'tey nodded. "Sleep now. I'll wake you up in the morning."

He smiled and nodded, reaching up and tracing his fingers over each edge of the hammock. It glowed beautifully and moved to cover him. He watched the glow fade, and by the time it did he was asleep.


	6. Chapter 6

Sunlight filtered through the branches of the hometree, hitting his face and making his eyes blink open sleepily. He was nuzzling deeper into the woven lines of the cocoon, halfheartedly fighting off the call of wakefulness when a shadow fell upon him.

He made a muffled noise and looked up, peering sleepily through the thinner parts of the weave. Tsu'tey stood above him, already awake and alert, and he looked down at him with his customary frown. He had a bow slung over his shoulder, wooden and painted with blue pigment.

“Come, it is time to wake up. If you sleep any longer you will miss the morning meal.”

He lay there for a second, contemplating whether five more minutes of sleep was worth having an empty stomach until the evening meal. It wasn't, so he brushed the hammock open and clumsily hoisted himself up. Tsu'tey offered a hand and he took it, clambering up onto the branch.

By the time they made it down he was already beginning to feel hungry. The morning meal was much the same as the evening one. They sat in circles and passed around bowls, these ones filled more with fruit and berries than cooked insects. The fires were out, save a select few lit around the area.

More of the hometree was visible in the daylight, and he took it in with fascination. The bottom of the tree had roots like a mangrove, spreading out in arches that left large areas of spaces sheltered within the roots. By the center of the hometree was a large structure for weaving. It hung from higher up in the hometree and held a great woven tapestry in the making. A few people were already clambering over the structure, sitting high above the ground as they bound more threads into the intricate tapestry.

Not far from it, by one of the few fires still lit, was another structure. It stood close to the spiraling trunks, proudly displaying what appeared to be a large avian skull of some sort. He craned for a better look before giving up and asking Tsu'tey.

“What's that?” He said, gesturing towards the skull.

Tsu'tey glanced up and saw where he was pointing. “It is Toruk, the last shadow. It is one of Eywa's greatest hunters, ruler of the skys. ”

“It sounds fearsome.”

Tsu'tey nodded. “That is the skull of the Toruk of the last Toruk Makto, the rider of the Toruk. There have only been five Na'vi to ever ride one, and the last two were of the Omaticaya. When it died we built a totem in it's honor. There we share the songs and stories of the clan and speak the lessons of our history.”

He looked towards the totem once more. Tsu'tey spoke of the Toruk with reverence, and now he could see why. The skull was huge, even from that distance, with two sharp crests atop it's head and beneath its jaw. Between its strong jaws stood a row of curved teeth, used to tear great chunks from its prey once it got them in range. When it was alive it would have been an undisputed apex predator, probably even capable of taking down the dreaded Palulukan.

The Toruk Makto must have been something incredible, to be able to ride one of those. It was no wonder there had only been five of them, and that the Na'vi held in such high regard those able to accomplish the feat. What must it have been like for them, to fly in the air and share thoughts with such a creature? He could only imagine. The thought made his heart swell in his chest, rising with adoration and mingled longing. It must have been beautiful.

When a bowl was deposited in his hands he turned away from the sight, focusing one more immediate issues. Namely his stomach, which had started to make small rumbling motions as it finally woke up. He plucked a purple fruit from the bowl and bit into it. It was delicious. Rich flavor burst across his tongue, sweet and spicy juice dribbling over his lips before he wiped it away sheepishly, looking around to make sure no one had seen. Everyone around the circle was busy eating, some already standing and leaving, ready to get on with their day.

He finished the fruit off with another few bites, swallowing down the succulent flesh with relish. He looked around hoping to find another, but the bowl was already out of reach half way around the circle. Oh well, he could eat another some other time.

Just as he was beginning to finish eating a voice called across the cavern.  
“Tsu'tey!”

He turned to look. A Na'vi girl, maybe a couple of years younger than himself was approaching from the central spiral. Her hair hung in numerous braids, a string of feathers dangling over his chest. She had a wooden bow in hand, similar to Tsu'tey's but decorated in lines of red rather than blue.

Her expression was mischievous, and her eyes filled with headstrong stubbornness. He recognized her vaguely as one of Mo'at's daughters, though he could not recall what her name was.

When Tsu'tey spotted her he nodded in greeting. “Neytiri.”

“So this is the one that's been keeping you inside the hometree all hours, Tsu'tey.” She said as she sat down next to them, then turned to him with a smile. She made a gesture with her hand, the same one he'd seen Tsu'tey and Mo'at do the night before. “My name is Neytiri, it is nice to meet you.”

He shifted a bit uncomfortably. He didn't want to be rude, not when she was obviously a friend of Tsu'tey's, but he didn't know how to reply. He didn't know what the gesture was, and it seemed important, and he could hardly give his own name in return, not when he didn't know what it was.

“It's nice to meet you too.” He said finally, making a clumsy effort to copy the gesture anyway.

She smiled at his fumbling attempts and corrected him gently. “You touch two fingers to the forehead, then turn your hand out towards the person your greeting. It means that you see the person, their spirit and who they are, and that you accept them with open mind.”

She demonstrated again, and he copied the movement carefully. It wasn't quite perfect, but it was much better than his previous attempt.

“Thank you.” He said, and honestly meant it. The greeting gesture meant so much. What if he'd have accidentally insulted someone by not return it, or doing it wrong?

“It's fine, my mother told me what happened. I hope you get your memory back soon.”

He smiled tightly. “Me too.”

She nodded and turned to Tsu'tey. “Finished eating?”

When Tsu'ey nodded she held out her hand to each of them, and he grasped it gratefully. Her hand was warm, and she pulled them to their feet easily. The movement almost sent him stumbling, before his tail flared out to regain his balance. Neytiri smiled at the movement, amusement evident.

“Follow me.”

She led them out through the roots of the hometree. The branches of the hometree stretched far above them, keeping a light shade and creating a clearing around the base of the tree. Within the hometree he ground was uncovered dirt, intersperse with sparse grass growth. This was not the case as they left the roots of the hometree, where the light was more abundant. There there were patches of long leafed grass here and there, but a majority of the clearing was made up of ankle length ferns that grew everywhere he looked.

Young children ran through the ferns, playing and laughing under the watchful eyes of the several dozen adults also scattered around the clearing. Many sat in the sun, talking together, some carving beads of even weaving as they spoke. Others walked purposefully towards the forest, carrying empty woven baskets for gathering fruit and insects, but even they were talking amiably amongst themselves.

Off to the left he could hear the sounds of a river. The quiet trickle of running water meeting his ears, even at that distance.

Neytiri lead them in the opposite direction, circling around the hometree towards an area where the clearing was even larger. They they walked a group of children came up to them, running circles around the trio and chattering with laughter. Neytiri tried at an expression of adult indifference, but even he could see the smile growing on her lips. The children clapped their hands together, laughing Neytiri's name until she caved, thrusting her bow into Tsu'teys hands and chasing after one of them with a laugh.

He smiled at the sight of Neytiri chasing the children around the clearing. They made quite the game of it, the children scampering around her and trying to avoid her tickling fingers as she chased after them. Finally with a great battle roar, two of the children launched themselves at her, knocking her into the ferns. The rest clambered on board with the idea, piling themselves on top of her and seeking her sides with clumsy fingers.

Neytiri's laughter rang through the clearing, mixing in with the exuberant giggling of the children. Beside him Tsu'tey chuckled, his stern exterior melted by the sight.

He looked at Tsu'tey and they shared a smile, standing together and watching Neytiri make a valiant attempt to break free before finally giving in and tickling the children back, sending the peals of laughter to even higher heights.

“They really like her don't they?” He asked, watching as Neytiri finally extracted herself from the grasp of about five or so pouting children.

Tsu'tey nodded. “Yes. Neytiri has a good spirit, and they can see that. She is more carefree and playful than Slywanin.”

“Slywanin?”

“Her elder sister. Slywanin will become the next Tsahik, while Neytiri has more freedom to choose.”

He hummed thoughtfully. “I like Neytiri. She's a good person.”

Tsu'tey nodded, and they watched as Neytiri walked towards them. When she was close enough he held out her bow, and took it back with a smile and a nod. Before they set off again she paused, waving back to the children. “I'll see you at the school tomorrow. We can play again then.”

A school? From what he had seen the Na'vi seemed more the type to teach their children communally, passing on knowledge through songs and stories. He looked towards Tsu'tey, about to ask, but found him scowling darkly.

Neytiri joined them again, still smiling. When she saw Tsu'tey's expression she sighed knowingly. “The school is not that bad, Tsu'tey.”

“The sky people are dangerous. I don't trust them.”

He looked between the two of them, completely confused. Sky people? From Tsu'tey's tone they might be an enemy, whatever they were, though Neytiri didn't seem to share that opinion.

“What are sky people?”

Tsu'tey scowl deepened even more, something he hadn't thought could be possible. “Aliens. They come from the sky in giant monsters of metal and dig up the earth, collecting stones. Some even take our form, like bad spirits, to try and earn our favor.”

“They have not done anything worthy of accusation yet, Tsu'tey. Wait until they do before you condemn them.” Neytiri protested. It had the air of an argument they had had many times before, and he was reluctant to interfere. He kept his quiet, and resolved to ask Mo'at about it later. She would probably be able to give him a clearer idea of the whole situation.

They passed a herd of grazing creatures, huge and blue. They might almost resemble a horse if not for their colouring and six strong legs. Each had a crest that rose up their neck and onto the top of their skull, bracketed on each side by a pair of long antenna where their ears would be.

As he passed by one raised its head from where it had been feeding from the nectar of a large flower, its long tongue flicking as it regarded him with one small blue eye. It watched him a moment, before huffing a loud breath through the many breathing holes up its neck, dismissing as not a threat and turning back to it's food. Several others were similarly browsing, wandering in and out of the tree line as they fed from the vibrant selection of blooming flowers.

While he had stood there, Tsu'tey and Neytiri had walked ahead, and he hurried to catch up. When he did he finally caught sight of their destination. Along the far side of the clearing were set up numerous painted wooden targets. There were a couple of people around, some adults, some children their age or younger. Each held a bow in hand, those of the adults longer and bigger than the smaller ones wielded by the children.

Tsu'tey wandered ahead to search for some arrows while Neytiri showed him around the clearing, careful to keep out of the way of those already shooting.

“Do you know how to used a bow?” She asked.

He shook his head. He didn't think he did, but how would he know? Even if he had known how to use a bow before there wasn't any guarantee the knowledge still remained.

“I don't think so. My back's still injured, so I doubt I could even if I knew.” He doubted strenuous activity would help his wounds at this point, and he didn't want to open them again when they were just starting to close up.

Tsu'tey returned with the arrows and he settled himself off to the side, sitting on a down turned log and watching as the two made short work of the arrows. The air filled with the twang of the bow strings and the blunt crunch of the arrows striking home. They fired quickly and skillfully, setting another arrow on the string barely a moment after the last was in the air. When he looked towards the targets he wasn't surprised to see all the arrows had hit, though, from the looks of it, Tsu'tey was slightly more skilled than Neytiri. More of his shots had landed around the center of the target, while a couple of her's strayed towards the edges.

He sat in the sun, relaxing in the warm sunlight as he watched the Tsu'tey and Neytiri collect their arrows and begin once again. He leaned hack, tilting his face back into the sunlight and closing his eyes, just breathing it all in. Tasting the fresh rich air and feeling the tickle of ferns around his feet, the sounds of archery in his ears. It was nice, being outside and just relaxing.

The rest of the morning was spent that way, relaxing off to the side and watching as Teu'tey and Neytiri practiced their archery. By the time the sun had risen overhead, marking the approach of noon, he had been joined by a pair of Na'vi there to keep an eye on a younger group of children practicing their first rudimentary bow skills. They sat in the long grass beside him, weaving thick strands of rope from rough fibers. When they saw his interest they showed him how it was done, guiding his fingers few the first tangled attempts and laughing off his early embarrassment.

The younger of the two, a woman, introduced herself as Saheli, and her elder companion as Tsamui. They were both weavers in the clan, though Saheli had only finished her apprenticeship last summer. Both were friendly and talkative, Tsamui more than Saheli despite his older age. They kept up a steady stream of conversation throughout the afternoon as they wove, the topics light and easy to follow even with the large gaps in his knowledge.

He learned that the fiber from the leaves of the tautral palm was one of the better weaving materials, not for its' colour but for its' strength and durability. It was the material they used to make the saddles for the horse creatures, the pa'li, as well as the armor used by the Na'vi. Tsamui countered this with an argument on the different types of long grass best suited for delicate weaving and how well they held dyes and paints. That, he argued, was just as important a quality for good weaving material as durability.

“How is your brother?” Tsamui asked when the conversation turned towards the health of family and friends. “He is still recovering from his injury is he not?”

Saheli nodded, her tone fond beneath the exasperation. “He is almost healed. It makes me glad. When he has to stay around the hometree he is insufferable. He has too much energy to be relaxing to be around when weaving, constantly figiting and bounding around the hometree looking for something to do.”

Tsamui laughed. “That is good news. He is good hunter, I am sure he sure he will be happy to be back out in the forests.”

“He would be out there already if the healers hadn't told him to wait until the end of the week. And you, how is your cousin?”

“Melayi is in good health. Her son Y'milith has just begun to learn the way of the bow and asks her to tutor him every day. She tells me he is intent on replacing Sylwanin as best archer in the clan.” Tsamui turned and pointed towards a boy across the clearing. The child held a bow in hand, and was carefully aiming an arrow at the target, a look of intense concentration on his young face. “See? There he is. Melayi asked me to watch him today while she works.”

They watched as Y'milith let the arrow loose. It flew through the air, veering off to the side and just missing the edge of the target, hitting the wood of the tree instead. It wasn't yet the easy skill Neytiri and Tsu'tey displayed, but it was better than anything he himself would be able to do at the moment.

“Ah well.” Tsamui smiled. “He is still learning. It was better than he did yesterday. He is improving.”

“How old is he?” He asked. Neytiri was quite skilled and she couldn't be more then eleven, while Tsu'tey seemed to be almost perfect with each shot. How many years had they been learning, to be that good at their age?

“He is ten, and has only been learning for a few weeks. It usually take a year, maybe two, to become proficient. By the time he becomes a man he will be very good with the bow, like all Na'vi.”

He turned the numbers over in his head. From what Mo'at had told him, the Na'vi were considered adults once they became sixteen. If they started learning at ten, the Na'vi had almost six years archery experience by the time they became adults. It was no wonder that Tsu'tey was as so good, being as close to adulthood as he was.

He watched the Tsu'tey and Neytiri practice with new eyes, his respect for the two of them rising. Neytiri must be very good for her age, to be so skillful despite probably having a year or so's experience. He could only hope to be as good as them at some point.

They didn't seem to mind that he hadn't shared anything about his own family, not asking, just accepting it and moving the conversation along. It was a relief. Though Neytiri and Tsu'tey meant well, it still stung to be reminded of his lack of memory.

The conversation rolled on around him, Tsamui asking after a friend of Saheli's. Saheli smirked and teased him, accusing him of having a crush and making a telling blush rise on Tsamui's cheeks. The man laughed, admitting nothing.

When his injuries began to tire him they didn't fuss, letting him quietly set aside the knotted length of rope he'd managed to weave and sit back, letting the conversation flow over him and adding his own piece here and there.

Tsamui was the first to leave, excusing himself some time later when the group of children he'd been keeping an eye on, Y'milith included, wandered over and asked him to help them with their accuracy. He bid them farewell with a smile, collecting the many fine strand of his weaving and following the children away. He was sad to see him go. Tsamui was a nice person, friendly, and he hoped to see him again sometime.

He and Saheli stayed there for a while longer. The two of them sat in comfortable silence as she wove, only the sounds of the forest and the rasp of moving fibers breaking the silence between them.

.

That evening when they returned to the cavernous bowls of the hometree, Mo'at was waiting for them. When she saw them come in she rose from her crouch, beckoning them towards her. The teasing chatter they had kept up along the walk into the hometree faded into silence.

Neytiri met her with a smile. “I see you, mother.”

Mo'at returned the gesture, repeating it each for Tsu'tey and he. “I see you, Neytiri.”

She turned to him. “The riders sent to the other clans have returned. They have brought news. Come, we have things to discuss.”

His heart leapt into his throat. News from the other clans. It was the moment of truth. Either they had found where he was from, who he was, or they had not. Both possibilities were equally daunting. His voice failed him in that moment and he nodded, the gesture doing nothing to contain his hesitant anxiety.

He startled when Tsu'tey laid a hand on his shoulder, squeezing. Tsu'tey didn't say anything, but then what was there to say? The gesture was supporting, enough to help him regain a modicum of resolve. He looked at him, taking a deep breath and nodding once more, more for his own reassurance this time.

Tsu'tey's hand slipped from his shoulder as he stepped forward, following after Mo'at as she lead them further into the hometree and away from prying eyes. His shoulder felt empty, now cold where Tsu'tey's hand had been warm.

As they walked he couldn't help but go over all the possibilities. What if they had found his clan? What then? Would he return to them, try and live there again with people who knew him but he didn't know? Would he even want to leave if given the choice? He liked it here, with Tsu'tey and Neytiri, Mo'at and everyone else. Everyone, everything, he currently knew was here. And if he did go, would they try to make him remember? Would they resent him if he couldn't?

Alternately what would happen if they hadn't found his clan? Mo'at said he could stay with the Omaticaya and be a part of their clan, but what would that mean? If he had no family would he be taken in by another, or take care of himself?

There were too many possibilities, too many different options crowding in his head and muffling his thoughts. With each step apprehension and doubt grew in his stomach, twisting his insides painfully into a tight ball.

They stepped of the central spiral only a while after they got on it, branching off into a series of smaller chambers secluded off to one side. Eytukan was waiting for them in one of them. When they got there he greeted Mo'at. His expression remained stern, his face cold as carved stone, but his eyes softened slightly when Mo'at settled next to him. He may look cold, but he loved his mate, that much, if anything, was evident.

The Olo'eyktan's eyes turned to him, the weight of his gaze heavy and serious. Eytukan nodded sharply at him. “Sit, child.”

He was glad to obey, sinking down into a crouch before the two most imposing figures knew. He felt like he was waiting for his execution order. The single world that would make his world... or break it. Mo'at and Eytukan shared and inscrutable look.

Eytukan was the first to speak. “When we found you we sent riders to the neighboring clans. To the Kekunan Clan and the other Ikran Peoples of the Eastern Sea, as well as the Horse Clans of the Plains. Today many of those riders returned.”

“What did they say?” He asked. He was tired to waiting, tired of wondering what his fate would be.

Eytukan didn't reproach him his bluntness, continuing on unphased. “None of the Clans know of you. None have lost any of their children, and none your age.”

His breath left him in a whoosh. A strange mixture of relief and startling dread burst in his chest. He was glad, more than anything, that he would not have to leave his new friends, yet at the same moment the confirmation that they would never be able to find out who he was, who his family was, stung deep to his core.

When he noticed Eytukan still had things to say he made an effort to drag himself out of his emotional turmoil. It was not something he could change, there was little chance of him regaining his memory. He would have to accept it and start moving forward instead of trying to look backwards. Full acceptance would be difficult and take a while longer, but he could take the first step towards it. With that thought in mind he took a deep breath and soothing it all down, for now at least.

The Olo'eyktan let him have his moment gathering himself and letting it sink in, staying still and silent as he watched the boy face transform from a visage of unsteady loss to one of stable calm. Mo'at noticed it too. The boy was mature for his age, all the more so for the fact he was dealing with such a difficult situation relatively calmly. She had noticed it early on, telling Eytukan as much after her first talk with the boy. With the evidence before his eyes he couldn't help but agree.

When the boy looked up at him again, eyes calm and resolute, he continued. “Our clan would welcome you as one of its own, if that is what you wish.”

“I would like that.” He said.

Eytukan nodded. “Then you are welcome among us, brother.”

He startled at the title, a deep pervasive warm blooming with the term. Brother. He liked that. He was a member of the Omaticaya, one of the clan. He had a people. A place he belonged. The thought made him smile.

Mo'at spoke then. “With your memories you lost your name and clan. Now you have a clan, but what will be your name?”

He made a sound, his brows slowly gathering into a firm furrow as his mouth slipped into a frown. He hadn't thought of that. A name. He would have to choose his own name. He turned it over in his head, trying to come up with something, only to banish each one with a felling of disgust. None of them felt like him. None of them felt right. Like wrong pieces of a puzzle trying to fit together.

“I don't know.”

Mo'at eyes were soft with understanding. “You have no preference?”

He shook his head.

A serene smile grew on her lips and she spoke. It was a single word yet it was worth more to him than an entire ballad.

“Isonali.”

_Yes, thats it._ He thought with the feeling of a puzzle piece finally slotting into place. _My name is Isonali._

“We need to choose who will take care of you.” She said. “You are fond of Tsu'tey?”

“Yes. He is... my friend.” It was the first time he'd said it out loud. He knew he must have had friends before, but he couldn't remember them. Right now Tsu'tey felt like his first friend, the only friend he'd ever had.

“Ateyo, his father, will take care of you. They will help teach you the things you have forgotten.”

“They don't mind?”

“I have talked to Ateyo. He does not mind. I doubt Tsu'tey will either, he has grown quite fond of you too in the last few days.”

He'd hadn't met Tsu'tey's father yet, but the thought of having the man looking after him didn't bother him too much. From what he had seen most Na'vi were kind people, even those that looked stern and cold, like Eytukan and Tsu'tey, tended to be kind underneath. No, he decided, it didn't bother him at all.


	7. Chapter 7

As the weeks passed he quickly settled into life with the Omaticaya. Isonali hardly had anything to compare it to, but if felt different; simpler for some reason. It was refreshing.

The Na'vi had a very social lifestyle, that much he had grasped early on, but as the weeks passed he learnt the true extent of it. The clan was not so much a group of smaller individual families banded together, but one collective family. All members of the clan, regardless of blood, were kin. Every women was your sister, every man your brother, every child your niece or nephew. And it reflected in the way the Na'vi brought up their children, each adult chipping in to look after and teach the children, even those who had no children of their own. The children were encouraged to spend much of the day playing together and make friends, all the better to form the strong social bonds essential to the clan's lifestyle at an early age.

The concept of individual wealth, of one having much while another had little, did not exist. Ateyo had just looked at him, brows drawn in confusion, when Isonali asked on the subject, wondering aloud why Tsamui, who was an experienced and accomplished weaver within the clan, was not richer than than any of the other weavers.

“Richer?” Ateyo frowned, thoughtful. A moment later his expression cleared into comprehension. “Ah, you mean in the manner of the sky people. The Tsahik said that each keeps their own foods and profits, but it is hard to believe.”

Ateyo shook his head. “No, Tsamui does not have wealth in the manner of the sky people but he has skills and experience, and that is more valuable. If one prospers, so do all - that is the way of the clan. Tsamui adds much to the clan. Through his skill it prospers, and that gives him a more value than the selfish ways of the sky people ever could. ”

Individual wealth was of no use in a world so wild and dangerous, where survival was not bought but earned. The survival of the clan was not assured, but dependant on the efforts of its every member. One failed hunting season, one single flood or disease could be crippling to the survival of the clan. The knowledge and skills it took to survive were what were important, and it was those combined skills of the clan - hunting and healing and weaving, all of it - and the shared profits they reaped that ensured the clan's survive.

Isonali looked down at his own hands. So young and soft, uncalloused compared to those of Ateyo and Tsamui, even those of Tsu'tey. These were the hands of someone who had no skills and experience, no value or way of giving back to the clan. In this moment Isonali was worthless.

“I understand.” Isonali said, his hands curling into fists. Tsu'tey had promised to help teach him archery when he was healed, and he'd already picked up a few simple weaving patterns from the long afternoons spent with Tsamui and Saheli as Tsu'tey and Neytiri practiced their archery. He would learn and he would improve, gain the skills that would let him repay them for their kindness and prove to the clan it had been worth taking him in.

.

The Na'vi ate together, slept side by side and worked as one, singing and talking together in harmony. Isonali had seen snatches of this before and had formed a vague idea of it. But it was one thing to see it and another entirely to take part. The difference in culture and level of social commitment that was a part of day to day life with the Na'vi was mind boggling. He'd been so unsure of how to even start fitting in that the first few days after his acquaintance to Ateyo were spent with a sense of debilitating hesitance, lingering off to the side as he tried to make sense of it all.

Tsu'tey noticed, and he did try to help, but he hardly knew what to do. While sweet, his attempts usually involved grabbing Isonali by the hand and dragging him right into the middle of the fray. Isonali would sit stiffly, trying to smile and not to make a mess of it all as he struggled to understand conversation and social cues that, half the time, went way above his head.

In the end it was Ateyo who did the most to smoothed away his insecurity. Ateyo resembled his son immensely, both in appearance and manner. They had the same serious demeanor, yet where Tsu'tey could be prideful and quick to anger, Ateyo was calm and watchful. Age and experience had softened his sharp edges in a way they had not yet done for Tsu'tey.

He noticed Isonali's discomfort almost immediately after Mo'at introduced them, and gave him a kind smile. Isonali supposed it was meant to be reassuring, and it might have been had he not already been drowning beneath the weight of his own ignorance and uncertainty. Over the next days Isonali felt Ateyo watching him off and on, trying to get a measure of him. When it became clear Isonali was still struggling, Ateyo took him aside with a quiet word. “There is no shame in not knowing, nor in asking if you have questions. Mo'at had asked me to teach you our ways, and I would be glad to do so.”

Isonali nodded gratefully. He was more than keen to learn the ways of his new clan, if only to rid himself of the crippling sense of ignorance.

Ateyo was a good teacher, patient, even casual, in his manner of instruction. He did not set lesson times or any form of curriculum, but rather pointed things out when the moment arose. Explaining each tidbit of knowledge as if it were perfectly normal to be ignorant to the basics of the Na'vi lifestyle. And perhaps it was normal considering his situation. A week or so in Isonali started to realize that he may have been worrying about it too much.

They would walked around the Hometree together, Tsu'tey sometimes trailing behind, and in between bouts of explaining this greeting and that custom, Ateyo would name the members of the clan and introduce them to Isonali. There were too many to remember at once, and Isonali was sure he'd forgotten more than a couple, but he greeted each one gladly and was met with equal good will in turn. These were the people of his clan, his new family, and he would remember their names soon enough.

Ateyo pointed out the plants when they walked around, making small trips into the jungle to show Isonali which were the best for eating, medicine or weaving, as well as what creatures they attracted. And when Isonali asked, his interest piqued, Ateyo began to describe the different creatures as well. Pa'li. Yerik. Ikran. Nan'tang. Angtsik. An endless list of names, ranging from the biggest creatures to the smallest, apex predators and passive herbivores alike.

“All creatures are a part of Eywa, from the smallest Fwampop to the mightiest Toruk. She is the All-Mother, the one who gives life and the one to whom it returns when our bodies fade. It is through her that all beings are connected as kin. Brothers with all living things be they plant, animal or Na'vi.” Ateyo said. They were on one of their walks, resting near the edge of the forest to take advantage of the morning light. Tsu'tey was not with them this time, but Isonali had grown familiar enough with Ateyo that his absence was not felt too badly.

Ateyo's voice was hushed and reverent. He stared into the forest, eyes fixed upon it with an odd sort of intensity. Isonali turned his eyes towards the forest too, curious to see what Ateyo saw.

The plants burst lush and colourful in all directions, leaves swaying gently in the warm afternoon breeze. Pa'li drifted in and out amongst the trees, stopping here and there to suckle nectar from the flowers. Their feet beat rythmic time on the ground over the rustle of thick leaves. In the distance a flock of fkio rose above the tree line, disrupted from the waters. They circled around, letting out shrill shrieks as a wild Ikran followed them up and caught one of the stragglers. The chase was lost from sight as the rest of the fkio scattered and dived into the trees once again, heading back in the direction of the river.

Isonali watches it all with new interest, buried deep in thought. He had heard mentions of Eywa before, but until now no one had sat him down and actually explained who she was. If what Ateyo said was true and Eywa did exist, then it gave a whole new meaning to the Na'vi's absolute respect for nature and the way they lived alongside it. Still, Isonali didn't know enough to decide if he believed it or not. He needed to think on it more, get it sorted in his head. Ateyo hummed thoughtfully when Isonali said as much, and told him to stay with the children the next time they learnt the clan songs.

“I am no Tsahik.” He said. “I cannot explain it well enough. Listen to the songs Mo'at teaches and perhaps you will understand better.”

Isonali nodded and committed it to memory. He could ask Neytiri the next time he saw her, as the Tsahik's daughter she would surely know all about it.

When Ateyo wasn't teaching Isonali, Tsu'tey enthusiastically took his place as Isonali's teacher in all matters Na'vi. He was the one that taught Isonali how to tread light in the undergrowth to avoid damaging the plants and how to tie his clothes so that they sat comfortably and securely no matter how he moved. The small things that, while not immediately noticeable, were key to the Na'vi's way of life.

Not long after being taken into Ateyo's care he was introduced to Tsu'tey's uncle, Loak, and his family. Loak smiled like he did not know how to stop, like there was nothing in the world that could ever defeat his boundless joy at life. He met Isonali with that smile, beaming down at him with all the warmth of the noonday sun from his not inconsiderable height.

“You must be Isonali, yes?” He said. “Ateyo has told me much about you. It is an honor to welcome you to the clan, and our family.”

Isonali stumbled a bit at the warm reception, barely able to keep up. He had expected Loak to be like Ateyo and Tsu'tey – so often serious and quiet – that being confronted by such open friendliness caught him flat footed.

Loak was such a far cry from both Tsu'tey and Ateyo's that one would not think they were related at all save for the strong physical resemblance. They had the same strong cheekbones and broad shoulders, the same pattern of white spots along their sides. Loak's mate had much the same temperament, greeting Isonali with open arms and accepting him as part of the family just as easily.

“Let the boy breath, Loak. You overwhelm him.” She said, bright eyes smiling kindly. She held a child, a girl of maybe four or five years of age, within her arms, sitting upon her hip. “'I see you' Isonali. I am Klethali, and this is our daughter Lal'lan.”

She lifted the girl higher. “Say hello, Lal'lan.” Lal'lan peeked up at him, giving a small smile before ducking her head shyly into the mother's side once again.

Isonali laughed, smiling at her and giving her a little wave. “I see you' too, Klethali, Lal'lan. It is nice to meet you.”

“Ateyo said you were a fine young man, and I can see he was not exaggerating.” Loak said, his smile growing even more radiant, if such a thing was even possible.

.

The first time Isonali bathed in the river with them, Klethali tutted at the state of his hair and pulled up onto the rocks after washing. Unlike the Na'vi around him, whose hair was all tied up in numerous complicated braids that lay out of the way down their back and shoulders, his own hair hung loose and messy, tumbling down his back barely restrained by a tight band of woven twine.

She sat him down on one of the large boulders that interspersed the shallower areas of the river. Several other Na'vi sat on the rocks along the river not far away, sunning themselves dry and lying leisurely in the warm afternoon sunlight. It appeared to be a common pass-time after bathing, if the number of them doing so was any indication.

Isonali could see why, the rock was smooth and warm in the sunlight. The view was nice – the waves sparkled beneath the light, lily pads in bloom growing on the surface of the river where the current was sluggish. Beyond that the forest bracketed the river, shading areas where tall reeds grew in varying colours of dark red.

A couple of fkio stood on the other side of the river where the water was shallow and calm. Their long legs dipped in the water between the lily pads, dual pairs of violet wings fanning in the sun as they dragged their spined beaks through the water in search of food.

“This is no good.” Klethali said, running her fingers through his hair in a semblance of combing the knots out of it. “If you do not braid your hair properly it will get damaged and dirty more often.”

Isonali nodded. He had seen the intricate manner in which the Na'vi braided their hair, but even the simplest styles seemed far more complex than anything he could manage. In the end he had just settled for tying his hair back as best he could with a piece of twine.

“I don't know how.” He admitted, eyes downcast and embarrassed.

“Then I will show you.” Klethali said firmly, a small smile on her lips despite her tone. She unbound her own hair, deftly taking apart the many smaller braids coiled around each other and the larger one that hung free down her back.

“The most important is the main queue.” She said once her hair hung free, and reached behind her, collecting a sizable amount of hair from the centre of her head and bringing it around to show him. “That is the braid we make around the tswin, to protect it.”

She parted the hair gently, revealing within many thin pink strands that shifted slightly as they watched and glowed faintly from within. “This is the tswin. It is how we connect through tsaheylu.”

He nodded, enchanted by the sight. She laughed fondly at that, grinning at him. “Come, you have your own tswin and you must learn how to protect it.”

She showed him again where to collect the hair for the main queue and he copied as best he could, running his fingers through the hair at the top centre until he felt he had gathered a suitable amount. Then he brought it around, hanging the long strands over his shoulder into his lap. Sure enough, like Klethali said, there were the pink strands of tswin visible when he shifted the hair. He ran his thumb curiously over one and gasped a bit at the tingle of electricity it sent down his spine. The tswin were hypersensitive, each movement and breezy gust of air over them enough to make him shiver with something approaching discomfort. He covered the tswin again quickly.

Klethali laughed. “You see now why we make sure the tswin are protected.”

Bit by bit Klethali showed him how to wrap and weave the strand of hairs around the sensitive tswin until they were secure within a long braid. None of the tswin were exposed save the delicate ends and even they were partially covered and kept accessible at the end of the queue. The resulting braid was a neat, if basic compared to the rest of the Na'vi.

“The ends must be kept free so that we can make the tsaheylu.” Klethali explained when he asked why they did not cover the tswin entirely. “The hair around them keeps them safe even if they are not completely bound.”

He held the end of his queue closely, cupping his hand over the barely hidden tswin. They were so fragile. Now that they had been brought to his attention he wanted to make sure to take care of them. He couldn't imagine how painful it would be if they got damaged. The thought alone was enough to make his face pale and his stomach twist.

Kaltheli laughed at his protectiveness. “My daughter still does that sometimes after we rebraid her queue. It is if she is afraid they will disappear if she does not keep holding onto them.”

Considering that Kaltheli and Loak's daughter was not yet five, Isonali was not sure to be flattered or offended by the comparison. He settled on mild amusement. “It is perhaps not so different - I cannot remember having them long.”

She smiled and dipped her head, apologetic. “Ah, you are right. I had forgotten.”

They spent much of that afternoon on the rocks, Kaltheli teaching him a number of other smaller braids as they watched Loak and Ateyo played with Lal'lan in the water, teaching her how to paddle. At one point she veered towards the fkio with obvious interest and they shrieked, taking to the air and retreating further down the river.

Tsu'tey swam around Loak and Ateyo, diving under for long moments before breaking the surface quietly on the other side of the river. Every once in awhile he would surface with a vibrant shell clutched in hand and place it on the rocks near Isonali. Isonali inspected each one with care, marveling at the array of bright colours that decorated the shells in swirling bands. Sunset oranges and royal purples, bloody reds and bright greens all swirling beautifully across the surfaces.

At one point he emerged from the water, grinning proudly with a wriggling fish clutched in his hands. It was sleek and white, with large pearly scales and long antennae branching off on each side of its jaw. The fish gasped and flapped in Tsu'tey's grip before slipping between his fingers. Tsu'tey's composure shattered and he scrambled after it, making a few clumsy attempts to catch it again firmly before it dropped back into the water.

Isonali laughed, grinning when Tsu'tey looked up, an embarrassed blush covering is face before he scowled with exaggerated anger. The expression didn't last long, a grin growing contagiously on Tsu'tey's face. Soon he was laughing too.

“It was a pretty fish while it lasted.” Isonali chuckled. “Shame we will not get to taste it.”

Tsu'tey huffed, still laughing beneath his breath. “Ungrateful. I have yet to see you do better.”

“Tsu'tey the great fisherman! Do you think they will make songs in your name?”

Tsu'tey growled at that and disappeared back under the water with a splash. Isonali grinned at Tsu'tey's retreat, content in his victory as he lay leisurely on the warm rocks. Kaltheli laughed from her place on the rocks beside him.

A dark shadow circled beneath the water. With a splash Tsu'tey emerged from the water, grabbing hold of his foot and dragging him shouting into the river. He floundered a bit, breaking the surface with a gasp, already laughing. The water was cool and fresh against his sun warmed skin, and it flowed pleasantly over the still tender skin on his healing back.

His wounds were healing well. They had made great progress over the last few weeks, closing over and slowly beginning to fade into long scars across his back. The skin was still new and tender, and he had to be careful not to stretch it too much, but it was a lot better than it was before. The scars raked thick across his back from shoulder to hip in long lines, crossing over where the Palulukan's attacks overlapped. The pale lines cast too sharp a contrast against his skin and stripes to be pretty, but he did not mind. They were a symbol of his survival against one of the deadliest of Ewya's creatures and he could not help but be slightly proud of them, pretty or not.

He looked around but Tsu'tey was already underwater once again, hidden within the shadows and glittering rays of light. Isonlai smirked, keeping his eyes keen on the water. Tsu'tey may be hidden now, but all he had to do was wait. Soon enough air bubbles broke the surface of the water far down the river and Isonali grinned. “I will have my revenge Tsu'tey! You can't hide!”

He dived into the water, swimming after Tsu'tey. The waters were clear and clean, and he could see far ahead of him to where Tsu'tey's kicking feet were disappearing around the edge of a semi-submerged boulder. Lily-pads and plants growing on the water created moving shadows in the depths, making the penetrating sunbeams all the more dazzling by contrast. A few fish darted here and there, keeping shyly to the shadows and deeper reaches of the river.

When he rounded the corner Tsu'tey was waiting. He had positioned himself against the riverbed, and when Isonali came around, he pushed off and darted beneath him back the way he had come. Isonali let out a frustrated bubble of air and twisted around awkwardly, chasing after him. He reached out and grabbed one of Tsu'tey's feet, grinned internally as he swam towards the surface, flipping Tsu'tey upside down.

He broke the surface, laughing and gasping for air as Tsu'tey fumbled to right himself in the water. Tsu'tey managed it eventually and rose toward the surface with a scowl on his face. Isonali took the opportunity presented, gathering his arms in the water and splashing a wave into Tsu'tey's face the moment he breached the surface.

The move launched a water fight that lasted until they finally left the river when Lal'lan began to tire and sniffle crankily. They swam around each other, ducking behind boulders, even behind Ateyo and Loak on one memorable occasion, as they sent torrents of water towards each other with each opportunity. When they finally stumbled out of the water they were both laughing, Tsu'tey's serious facade cracked right open by hours of easy enjoyment in the river.

They dried themselves before the fires of the evening meal, still smiling and a little bit damp when they retired for the evening.

.

“And this one?” Isonali asked as the bowl full of thick waxy leaves was pressed into his hands. It was a habit he'd taken up, asking Ateyo to name each new food as it came around. Ateyo didn't seem to mind, more pleased than anything at Isonali's curiosity.

Ateyo tilted his head, leaning over to have a look. “Leaves from the tihawnuwll plant. They can be eaten raw, and roots can be used to make medicine. It grows in the forest not far from the river, I can show you tomorrow.”

From his other side Tsu'tey snorted and nudged Isonali's shoulder. “You forget you have a patrol then, father.”

Ateyo held out his hand and Isonali absently handed him the bowl. Ateyo plucked a leaf from within, tearing it into smaller pieces and popping a piece in his mouth. “Then you should take him in my place. It will do you good to do something other than training for a day.”

Isonali looked at Tsu'tey and shrugged. “If you don't mind.”

“Then it is settled.” Ateyo said, clapping Isonali on the shoulder. “Take your time and explore a bit, there is nothing pressing tomorrow and it is close enough to the hometree to be safe. Mind, do not venture too far though. The forest can be dangerous.”

Isonali nodded. He did not need a reminder. He knew what could be lurking in the undergrowth. The scars on his back were proof enough of that.

They set out early the next day, leaving soon after the morning meal and the rising of the sun over the horizon. It was the when the hunters left, and they followed behind a group of them for a while. Not long after that the hunters split off, going their separate ways. The Na'vi hunted with the bow, and that was best done in solitary, where the noise and bustle of many people would not give away their presence.

They saw the hunters away gladly, waving them off and wishing them each a good hunt. One of the hunters, a woman with two daggers strapped to her chest and a long bow slung over her shoulder smiled back at them, nodding her head in thanks. “Eywa protect you.”

Isonali watched her vanish out of sight, easily disappearing into the undergrowth with barely a sound. That was a level of skill he could admire. Not only her proficiency with weapons but her stealth and grace as a hunter as well. He could only hope to one day be as good a hunter as her.

Finally Tsu'tey nudged him out of his musing with a bump of their shoulder. When Isonali turned to him questioningly Tsu'tey smirked, nodding in the direction the woman had gone. It took him a moment, but when he did Isonali blushed and shook his head.

“It is not like that. She is a good hunter, that is all.” He protested.

Tsu'tey snorted and turned towards the forest. “If you say so. Now come, it is better we climb the trees and travel at a height. It is safer that way – you are still not completely healed and though I am almost a man I am not a warrior yet.”

That sounded reasonable, though Isonali doubted there would be anything so dangerous as a Palulukan so close to the hometree. Still, no matter how unlikely he had no wish to risk another encounter, not when he had barely survived the first. Isonali nodded. “Show me how?”

“Of course.” Tsu'tey said, already advancing towards the nearest tree, this one as large as any other. Isonali smiled and followed a step behind, listening intently as Tsu'tey started to explain.


	8. Chapter 8

Isonali hummed one of the clan songs beneath his breath as he followed Ui'ril and the other hunters back to the hometree. With every step the prize of their hunting trip, a brace of small fwampop slung over his shoulder, bounced against his back. It had been a good haul, with Isonali and Ui'ril's snares catching a total of half a dozen of the creatures.

His trips into the forest with Tsu'tey had become something of a habit in the last couple of weeks. Happening, if not daily, then at least several times a week. They would head out early in the morning with the hunters and meander their way through the network of treetops with no purpose save a vague interest in showing Isonali new plants and animals. During that time they would talk, just chatting mostly, and explore the forest. Isonali knew that Tsu'tey must have known much of the area already, but he never made any complaint to their aimless wandering.

Isonali took it all in with vast interest, fascinated to finally see the creatures he had heard about from Ateyo and Mo'at's songs. They would sit in the treetops, eating fruit and berries as they watched a pack of nantang run along the forest floor around the large tree whose rooted hollows in which they made their den, moving in smooth unison. Barking and howling, black skin gleamed in the filtered sunlight as they taught their young how to hunt. Other times they would venture farther, towards the lake lands, and sit in the lower branches, legs swinging over the edge as they watched the enormous flocks of fkio moved along the water, taking to the air in great clouds at the approach of any predator.

Their trips had not gone unnoticed and soon gained the notice, and approval, of many of the hunters. It was how they met Ui'ril. They had stumbled upon her in the middle of one of her circuits to check her snares. When she saw them she waved them closer, inviting them to join her on the rest of her circuit. “Unlike hunting with a bow, snares do not require much stealth. I would not mind the company.”

Isonali found himself accepting the invitation, the words spilling out by their own volition. Ever since that first trip out into the forest he'd had a niggling interested in the work of the hunters. To actually be invited to see one work, when usually their trade was so solitary... He wouldn't be able to forgive himself if he passed up such an opportunity. He sheepishly looked to Tsu'tey, realizing he hadn't even asked his opinion. “You don't mind right?”

Tsu'tey snorted and bumped shoulders with him. “Of course not, it is an honor to be invited along on a hunt.”

Ui'ril led them on a winding path through the forest, stopping seemingly at random to fiddle with snares that Isonali hadn't even noticed before she pointed them out. She moved through the undergrowth like a shadow, silent and swift, leaving little trace of her passage. Despite Tsu'tey and Isonali's own efforts to copy her stealth, both seemed ridiculously loud and bumbling in comparison to her years of experienced stealth.

Most of the snares were empty. She tested those ones, deft fingers checking the tautness of the line and the sharpness of the trap, dismantling and replacing any that had grown weak with time. When she found one that had been triggered she collected the prize, more often than not a fwampop, and tied it into a brace with the rest of the day's catches before setting the snare once more.

Isonali watched each action, soaking up every technique he could. Where he could he mimicked, asking for tips on the way back as they helped carry back the hunt's spoils. His interest in the subject supplied an endless stream of conversation as Ui'ril answered his questions, creating an easy sense companionship between the three. Tsu'tey joined in more often than not, though his interest veered more towards the bow work and hunting knives than the hunting itself. Isonali supposed that was normal considering Tsu'tey was training to be a warrior. It made sense that he was more interested in the tools of his future trade.

The next trip after Tsu'tey started expressing interest Ui'ril taught him how to set a snare, showing him where to place where an animal was likely to come across it yet where it would be hidden from sight. She helped him set up the first few, guiding his mangled attempts so that they didn't snap shut and take off his fingers. Then, when she deemed him appropriately practiced, she stood back and watched approvingly as he twisted a few springy saplings and vines together to create a trap that snapped shut with a resounding crack when they poked it with a stick.

.

“I told you it would explode,” Tsu'tey said between chuckles. “That didn't mean you had to throw a stone at it.”

Isonali huffed, “It was a plant, a _fluffy_ plant. I thought you were joking.”

“It's hardly my fault you didn't believe me,” Tsu'tey said, totally unrepentant. He smirked. “Though you should have seen your face when it did. You looked so surprised.”

“I did not!”

“I seem to remember your mouth hanging open, eyes were so wide someone could have used them for plates. I was very concerned you would faint and I would have to carry to back to the hometree,” Tsu'tey said. He gave Isonali an overly concerned look, then broke out in a grin when Isonali punched him in the arm.

They rounded the trunk of the last tree, the hometree coming into sight at last. Tsu'tey abruptly froze, good humor vanishing in an instant. Isonali, still a step behind Tsu'tey, craned a look around the tree. A group of Na'vi stood near the base of the hometree, dressed in odd clothing that hid their skin beneath layers of fabric. Yet that was not what set them apart from the clan. They stood stiff and straight, walked with the awkward stride of one unused to the long limbs and shifting balance of the Na'vi. That, more than anything was what made them stand out as outsiders. In him that awkwardness had been acceptable, even considered cute, like watching a young nan'tang tumble over its' too large feet. In an adult, one without the excuse of amnesia or ill health, the behavior was almost unsettling to witness.

They stood amongst a cluster of the clan, surrounded by children of varying ages. Neytiri was right in the center of the group, talking amiably with one of the strange women. They were the sky people. Isonali had seen them before, but always from a distance. Tsu'tey did not trust them, Isonali knew, and when they visited he often found himself being led away by scowling Tsu'tey, invited on spontaneous walks in the jungle; away from the hometree and its strange visitors.

It irked to be treated like a child, like he wouldn't be able to defend himself if they did turn out to be a threat, but Isonali could not find it in himself to truly be angry at Tsu'tey. Not when Tsu'tey was only trying to protect Isonali from what he considered a possible threat. If it put Tsu'tey's mind at ease, Isonali did not mind being coddled a little. He didn't care enough about these mysterious sky people to fight with Tsu'tey on the subject.

Isonali was already turning, perfectly content to go on another walk until the sky people were gone, but it was not to be. Neytiri had already spotted them and was waving them over, “Tsu'tey, Isonali, there you are! Come meet Grace.”

Neytiti smiled at them, taking Isonali by the wrist and dragging him towards the hometree. Isonali looked back at Tsu'tey. A frown was etched on his face and his shoulders were tight with tension. His hands lingered by his sides, clenching and uncleaning into fists as if in preparation for a fight. He followed after them unhappily, reluctant to go near the sky people yet unwilling to leave Isonali alone with them either.

Isonali met his eyes and shrugged, giving him an it'll be fine sort of smile. Tsu'tey relaxed a bit at that, but he didn't stop frowning. Ah well, Isonali supposed he couldn't hope for better all things considered.

Neytiri pulled him into the center of the crowd, the people parting to let her pass. She stopped before one of the sky people, a woman, and smiled, gesturing to her. “Isonali, this is Grace. She runs the school.”  
Isonali nodded politely and said, “I see you.”

Tsu'tey stopped a step behind him, expression cold and arms coming up to fold over his chest. He said the greeting once, curtly, and then nothing more. Stopping once the most basic of manners had been fulfilled. He did not smile.

“I see you,” Grace said, smiling at both of them and completely ignoring Tsu'tey's open hostility. Isonali wondered if she really did not see it. He doubted it. For all that she was strange she looked smart. Neytiri said she was a scientist, a teacher, that at least indicated some measure of observational skills.

She held out her hand for a shake, and though it was not customary in the Na'vi, Isonali complied none the less. Grace smiled, saying, “It is nice to finally meet you, Neytiri has told me a lot about you.”

Tsu'tey bristled and shot Neytiri an accusing look. She rolled her eyes at him and paid him no mind except to stop on his foot in reprimand. Tsu'tey glared all the more intensely in response but did not stoop to returning the gesture. Isonali contained a sigh and plastered a mild smile on his face. “It is nice to meet you too, Neytiri speaks of you very highly.”

Neytiri sent Tsu'tey a triumphant look. Better separate Tsu'tey and Neytiri before one said something to set the other off. Tsu'tey and Neytiri were good friends, but this was one subject they would never agree on and Isonali was not keen to get stuck in the middle of their bickering.

“I'm sorry we can't stay longer, but Tsu'tey and I have to go. He's helping me with my, er, training.” Isonali said, giving an apologetic smile. It wasn't quite a lie, but they hadn't been planning on any training just then either. Now it was his turn to be glared at by Neytiri.

“I wouldn't want to keep you,” Grace said, though her eyes shined with too much knowing amusement for her not to have noticed what was going on.

“Maybe next time?”

Isonali smiled but gave a noncommittal shrug, “Perhaps.”

He turned and left, Tsu'tey following gladly behind. With each step they but between them and the sky people Tsu'tey relaxed more, the tension fading from his form. They kept walking until they were out of sight, then stopped. Isonali raised an eyebrow at Tsu'tey, “Well, no one died so I suppose it wasn't that bad.”

Tsu'tey scowled at him, but even Isonali could see it had nothing behind it. Finally Tsu'tey huffed and gave up, turning away and walking towards the central spirals. “There was something I wanted to show you, we can do that now.”

Isonali made a sound of interest and followed after him, walking the rising branches with much less trepidation than his time. He was more used to them now, having gone up and down a dozen times. The height was no longer as daunting as it had once been.

“So,” Isonali said, swinging his arms up behind his head and walking leisurely after Tsu'tey, “where are we going?”

“It is a surprise.” Tsu'tey said, and lead Isonali even higher into the branches of the Hometree.

As they rose the branches spread outwards in each direction. Smaller branches reached out in an explosion of twisting branches, laden with dark leaves. Thick moss covered the larger branches like a carpet. Thick vines, long and strong as hardened leather, grew in large numbers atop the branches. They hanged down from every branch, trailing far below even the lowest branches and swaying to and fro like reeds with every burst of wind. Though Isonali had become somewhat used to the great heights of the Na'vi hometree, he was glad for the handholds they provided. This was the highest he had ever been, and Tsu'tey yet showed no signs of stopping, leading him ever higher.

The branches near the trunk were thick enough near the hometree to provide some measure of confidence and security. But it did not last; soon they grew thinner, until the edges of the branch grew closer together and Isonali could see over the edge with each step.

Isonali took in a quick breath. His heart beat heavy in his ears and he could feel the pulse of his blood his body, beating a drum along his neck and wrists. He could taste the adrenalin, the knowledge - the fear – that one wrong move would mean his death. There would be no way to stop his fall, no one capable of catching him is he slipped. It made him want to laugh or scream, or both at once; with fear or exhilaration he didn't know.

His life was in his hands and it was up to him, in that moment, to keep it there. But beyond the fear, beyond the mindless exhilaration of standing on the knife edge, was awe.

The jungle stretched wild and magnificent below their feet, a thousand tangled arms of wood and foliage reaching up towards the sky. Some trees, few and far between, breached the treetops. They were bigger, taller, giants amongst the jungles already behemoth trees. Children of the hometree, born from seeds it had spread long ago. One day each would be as large as the hometree, standing visible on the horizon in monumental proof of what nature was capable of.

Hazy clouds of mist floated between the trees, curling through the thick branches in white whisps of cool moisture. At this height all that could be seen of the animals, normally so huge when he saw them in the jungle, was the occasional flash of colour from some flying creature or another darting above the treetops.

Isonali imagine this was the closest one could come to flying without actually leaving the ground, and it was enough to make his heart soar. This, this more than jewels or flowers or even the most skillfully woven tapistry, was beautiful.

At Tsu'tey's prompting Isonali eventually drew himself away from the sight. Still, he could not help but peek once or twice more over the edge for a final glimpse

“There are still things to see.” Tsu'tey said, and lead him on once more through the winding path of the branches.

There were still several layers of branches above them when Tsu'tey stopped climbing. Isonali was glad for the break, crouching down on the branch to catch his breath and rest. Though the climbing consisting mostly of walking the rising branches, there were still moments of more intense scaling that had begun to make the tender skin of his back twinge.

“We're not going to the top?” Isonali asked. It would not take much more climbing than they had already done. The view from there must be even more breathtaking, Isonali imagined.

“Not quite.” Tsu'tey said, but did not answer further.

A guttural call rang through the branches. Isonali's head turned, eyes fixing on a spot through the branches. His ears twitched attentively. He heard the sound again, quieter and more distant, from a different direction. And again, closer this time. It sounded almost familiar...

“The Ikran.” Isonali realized. He'd heard them a couple of times, when the hunters came back, but he had never really gotten a good look at one beyond a blur of colour in the distance, there and gone before he could get a better look.

Tsu'tey nodded. “The partnered Ikran roost in the branches of the Hometree, not far from here. We can't approach them, but we can look.”

Isonali grinned and leapt to his feet. He had a vague idea of what an Ikran was from Mo'at's stories, but he doubted his imaginings had done them justice. A creature that could fly, big enough to have a Na'vi ride it? They must be amazing, no matter what they looked like.

They stepped off onto one of the larger branches and set off, no longer heading upwards but sideways through the branches. It turned out to be more difficult than simply heading upwards, often requiring dropping from one branch to another or scaling up vines in attempt to stay on path.

His hands were sore, fingers stiff and palms rough with effort of climbing the vines by the time they stopped again. His back ached fiercely, mild tingling having grown into painful stinging along his wounds as he climbed. But it was all worth it when they caught the first sight of an Ikran.

“Are your wounds alright?” Tsu'tey asked, having seen Isonali wince. Isonali nodded absently, unable to care for the soreness for awe that there was an actual Ikran so closeby. Tsu'tey seemed to guess what he was thinking, for he smiled and turned to look too. “It is better we not go any closer. Ikran can be aggressive to those that are not its' partner.”

Isonali nodded in agreement, not taking his eyes off the Ikran. The closest to them was perched on a branch some distance away, another one not far beyond it.

The Ikran's appearance was almost dragonic, all long neck and sleek head, complete with a smooth crest of bone at the tip of its lower jaw. Its' skin was smooth and tough, mottled green and pearlescent blue beneath copper markings. Two long antennae, the holders of its' tswin Isonali realized, flowed from the back of its skull like flexible horns. It yawned, revealing long rows of curved black teeth, smaller but not unlike those he had seen in the skull of the Toruk.

With a low crow it spread its wings, preparing to take flight. Isonali didn't blink, trying to engrave the sight in his memory. It had two pairs of long wings; the first huge and beautiful, the second smaller and secondary. Both covered in a sheen of turquoise and vivid purple along the front of its wings. The primary wings tapered behind clawed fingers, ending in three smaller wing fingers, the ends transparent and veined like the wings of a dragonfly.

It took to the air in one graceful swoop, wings spread wide to catch the rising air. It circled around, maneuvering easily through the thick branches of the hometree before it settled again, landing cleanly on another branch near a roosting Ikran, this one a pale summer pink.

He turned to Tsu'tey, finally tearing his eyes away from the sight. “They're beautiful.”

Tsu'tey shrugged. “I knew you would like them. You like the stories about them.”

Isonali smiled and nudged Tsu'tey. “You were right.”

The Ikran were beautiful and elegant, true masters of the air if ever he had saw one. To imagine that in a year or two he would be a man and undergo Iknimaya... Create a bond with one, share his mind with one, feel the air beneath shared its'. Isonali grinned. He could hardly wait.

Tsu'tey sat down on the branch beside him, leaving Isonali to his enraptured watching of the Ikran. Tsu'tey watched them too, but did he not seem as enamoured with them as Isonali was. Isonali settled beside him eventually, though he was still reluctant to look away from the Ikran, fearing they might disappear if he did.

“What do you imagine it would be like to bond with one? To ride one?” Isonali finally asked.

“It will feel like Tsaheylu, like the bonding of minds. Beautiful and indescribable. And to ride one? I do not know, I have never done so.”

“Still, it must be amazing.”

Tsu'tey smiled wryly. “One would think you are in love with them Isonali. Did  
they steal your soul when you gazed upon them?”

Isonali laughed. “Of course not. They're incredible creatures, and I cannot help but appreciate that.”

They stayed there as the sun slowly sank towards the horizon, sitting in the heights of the hometree's branches with the jungle canopy stretched below them. The sound of music drifting up from within the hometree, filtering through the hush of their conversation and the occasional cry of the Ikran.

“Why do you and Ateyo not like the sky people?” He asked eventually, having turned the subject over in his head from some time.

Tsu'tey just sighed, showing none of the vehemence he had earlier. “We do not think they are safe. They are not of the Na'vi; they do not share our morals and ways. It makes them unpredictable. Dangerous. My father is a warrior, and I will soon be one too. We know it is better to be cautious than to trust them and leave our backs bare for their daggers.”

“Are they really dangerous?”

“They could be, and that is enough. Neytiri does not see it. She knows one or two that are kind, and cannot imagine that all are not the same way.”

Isonali hummed thoughtfully and let go of the subject. He leaned back against a branch, staring off at the faint flickers of movement of the Ikrans visible in the fading light. Tsu'tey's argument made sense. Isonali might want to believe in the best of people, like Neytiri, but he was not naive enough not to see the risks. Better to stay neutral on the subject; hope the sky people were good, but be prepared if they were not.

“Your Dream Hunt is coming soon, isn't it?” Isonali asked, looking towards Tsu'tey.

Tsu'tey nodded, “It is in three weeks.”

“And then you will be a man.” Isonali said.

“And then I will be a man.” Tsu'tey agreed.

Would it change everything? In a couple of weeks Tsu'tey would be an adult, a warrior. He would be too busy to spend much time with Isonali, if he had time to spare at all. Surely he would not find it embarrassing to hang out with Isonali, who was still technically a child, when Tsu'tey was an adult? Isonali hoped not. Tsu'tey was well on his way to becoming Isonali's closest friend, he did not want to lose him.

Isonali tried not to let his feelings show on his face. “You'll still teach me how to use a bow? Like you promised?”

Tsu'tey looked at him, eyebrows drawing together and frowning. He regarded Isonali for a silent moment, then snorted and whacked him lightly on the head. “Idiot. I will still teach you how to use a bow. And how to make one. And how to ride a Pa'li. And how to recognise tracks. And how to fish. And how to walk without falling over every single step. And-”

“Hey!” Isonali laughed. “I do not fall over with every single step!”

“Ah, but you used to. I cannot imagine your running will be any better, what with the way your walking started out.” Tsu'tey smirked.

Isonali grinned, dark feelings forgotten. “I'll be brilliant at it, at all of it. Just you wait.”

The last light had faded, and far below them the forest started to glow with light. The moss beneath their feet shone with each touch, leaving a fading trail of footprints in their way as they headed back into the hometree, the sounds of their laughter loud in the air.


	9. Chapter 9

The right of passage ceremony was drawing ever closer, and Isonali was in equal part anticipating and dreading it. The rituals of the ceremony were spread out over several weeks and while Tsu'tey would not be leaving on the journey for the Iknimaya for sometime yet, Isonali could not help but be intensly aware of its approach as the first of the rituals began. Despite Tsu'tey's reassurances Isonali knew things were going to change; for better or worse he could only wait and see.

It was with this in mind that Isonali watched Mo'at summon Tsu'tey and the other participants late one evening after the evening mean had finished. He didn't move to follow, watching solemnly as Tsu'tey took his seat with the other of the ceremonies participants around one of the fires. With every tongue of flame that rose their shadows dances across the walls of the hometree, flickering across the light in tall echo of the men and women those boys and girls were growing into.

Mo'at's face was grave as she spoke, her mouth set into a firm line between words. At this distance Isonali could not hear was she said and neither did he try to. He did not need hear hear word to know that it would be dangerous, her expression was telling enough alone.

The rites Tsu'tey and the others would being undergoing were no game, but a test of skill and maturity. While it was rare it was not unknown for people to get hurt, even killed, during the rights of passage. Isonali tried not to linger on this thought. He was confident that Tsu'tey would be able to overcome with any challenge thrown at him.

Movement beside him finally distracted him from his dark musings and he saw Neytiri drop down next to him in the corner of his eye. She was frowning, her arms crossed sternly over her chest in a picture of anger. “I hate this,” she said, a note of resentment sharpening her usually happy voice, “I hate having to stay behind and wait.”

“Sorry” Isonali said, not looking up from his hands.

Neytiri huffed and seemed to deflate a little,bumping his shoulder with hers companionably. “Yeah well, you're next. And then I'll have to watch _both_ of you leave me behind.”

“You won't be alone,” Isonali reassured her. He met her gaze hopefully, asking “You really think mine will be next year?”

“You're almost old enough and you learn quickly,” said Neytiri. “If you hadn't lost your memories you would probably be taking part in this year's ceremony.”

Isonali hummed thoughtfully and settled into silence once again. One year wasn't too large a gap. Even if Tsu'tey strode ahead, got stronger and better and wiser, it would only be one year. And then Isonali would be there would be his equal once more – both of them men.

Tsu'tey and the others gathered around Mo'at dispersed at a gesture from her. Tsu'tey made a beeline towards them. Isonali and Neytiri scrambled to their feet, running to meet him halfway.

“So? He asked, unable to keep the slight edge of curiosity from his voice. “What was it like?”

“I know the first step.” Tsu'tey said calmly, confidence quirking the edge of lip into an excited smile. “We'll be leaving to get the kali'weya tomorrow.”

He'd been nervous before, pacing stoically back and forth as he waited for Mo'at to call him, but Isonali could see no sign of it now. What stood before him was a strong young man ready to step forth and take the first true step of his adult life.

Isonali couldn't help but smile. It was a look that suited Tsu'tey.

.

Tsu'tey and the other youths set out the next morning when the sun had barely risen. Their party was small, consisting of the few youth of age to participate in the ceremony and a singled grizzled warrior to guild them. They would be gone for several days, and when they returned the Uniltaron would begin.

Isonali watched them disappear into the jungle one by one. One step, then two, and they were be gone from sight, engulfed by the jungle as if they'd never even existed. Tsu'tey lingered at the edge of the jungle a moment, looking back. He raised one arm in a farewell. Then he too was gone from sight.

Isonali hardly knew what to do with himself without Tsu'tey there, leading him from training to exploring the forest to visiting the Ikran again. It had always been Tsu'tey to suggest things, striding from one activity to another without a moment wasted and Isonali could not help but feel a little lost without him.

For a moment he considered staying there and waiting for them to return but dismissed the option just as quickly. He would just spend the time moping and hoping for Tsu'tey to return - it would just make him worry more. Instead he heaved himself from his perch and strode back in the direction of the training grounds, not taking a single look back towards where Tsu'tey and the others had disappeared.

He tracked Neytiri down to the training grounds not longer after. She had an arrow already drawn, the muscles in her arm taut beneath her skin from the effort. The arrow hit full center and she paused to wipe the sweat from her brow, scowling. Half her quiver was already buried in the wood. He'd hardly taken half a step towards her when she drew another arrow and let it. It flew fast and vicious, burying itself inches deep in the wood with a threatening crack.

Isonali backed away quietly and left her to it. He didn't think she was in the mood for company at the moment.

He wandered in a lazy circle around the hometree for a while, aimless and looking for something to do. Clan life was at its usual bustle, people striding back and forth through the hometree, arms laden with baskets and woven bags, or sitting throughout the main rooted cavern, their singing rising up through its twisting heights. Children ran through the ferns, squealing and laughing as they tackled each other into the springy greenery. He gave them a friendly wave when he passed, grinning when a couple paused their game to wave back. Barely a moment later the game had resumed and he was forgotten.

In the eastern clearings of the hometree that faced the river he spotted Saheli and Tsamui sitting together at the base of one of the hometree's enormous roots. A long mess of rope, fibers and other woven works was splayed on the ground around - a sight he was becoming evermore used to seeing around the weavers. He approached them, stepping lightly around their work and folding into a comfortable crouch.“Want some help?”

He'd bearely finished the word when when Saheli shoved a tightly packed tangle of fibers into his lap and scowled, “Untangle it. Just looking at you is enough to give me a headache.”

Isonali rolled his eyes and mumbled an apology. He gave the tangle a half-hearted poke, tugging at a protruding fiber. He supposed this was Saheli's way of trying to cheer him up, what with his friends absent or otherwise indisposed. Eventually he looked up, turning to Tsamui with a helpless look.

Tsamui smiled sympathetically and shrugged, saying, “Well, it needs to be done.”

Isonali tugged the strand a little more firmly and winced when it caused the knot to tighten even further. He peeked at Saheli to see if she'd seen, but she was completely fixed on weaving. He sighed and prodded the knot again, hoping it might just fall apart. When it didn't he gave in and got to work trying to wriggle the stands apart. It wasn't particularly fun, but at least it was something to do.

After half an hour of painstaking work he finally managed to free a single strand. It lay there, grey and crooked and ultimately emitting a vibe of victory. Isonali couldn't help but feel slightly proud when he looked at it.

He started work on the next stand, fingers patient but keen. Once you got down it to untangling the knots was sort of cathartic – it was a simple task, but one that required concentration. Enough to take his mind off worrying about Tsu'tey. He could hear faint singing drifting on the wind from the direction of the hometree and started humming along. Saheli and Tsamui didn't comment, but their own voices joined his not a moment later, following a simple yet cheerful tune.

The sun had rizen proper and it was well into midmorning when Tsamui set aside his weaving and stood. Isonali looked up from his knot, curious. "Going somewhere?"

“Ah sorry, yes. I promised to meet someone soon.” Tsamuis ducked his head, a faint blush colouring his cheeks. He gathered the last scraps of his work in his arms and darting away towards the hometree without another word.

“Lovestruck fool,” Saheli said, loud enough to turn the heads of all the Na'vi sitting nearby. Tsamui stiffened and waved a dismissive hand at her over his shoulder, but did not protest. Isonali could practically feel the Tsamui's blush increases.

Isonali turned to Saheli with a questioning look. Tsamui had always been a constant at her side and it felt strange to see her without him close by. Isonali might have thought them an old married couple, the way two of them bickered, if not for the fact they acted more like siblings than lovers. As far as he knew Saheli was so completely disinterested in anything resembling romance that she might as well have been made of stone – which was fair enough in his opinion.

Saheli raised a sardonic eyebrow at him,“Tsamui finally managed to gather the courage to talk to Emyi'ti. Now they spend all their time blushing at each other and trying to talk while I,”she scowled, her tone fond all the same,“do all the work.”

“Good for him,” Isoanli said, and he meant it. Tsamui was a kind man. One of the first people to welcome Isonali into the clan. He was the type that believed the best in people to an almost naive level - optimistic and hopeful to the point of stubbornness. If anyone deserved to find happiness it was him.

Saheli snorted. “He's spent the last two years in love with him - too shy to say anything and too much of an idiot to realize Emyi'ti feels the same way. If I had to deal with them a moment longer I swear I'd have tied them together and thrown them in the river, let that knock some sense into them.”

There was a speculative gleam in her eye that sent a cold shiver down Isonali's spine. He edged away from her ever so slightly. He didn't doubt that, if push came to shove, she would do it. To be honest Saheli could be a little scary sometimes.

“Er, right.” Isonali said, and went back to work on the knot.

Ateyo found him like that sometime later, still prying the threads apart. It was long past midday now and the sun beat down fiercely through the gaps in the trees. He'd finished untangling the first knot hours ago and had gone on to tackle the rest of Saheli and Tsamui's backlog of tangled fibers. Dozens of long threads had already been separated and now lay tied in neat bundles around him.

Isonali glanced up as he approached and he held up a hand, “Almost finished, just give me a minute”

He didn't wait for an answer, going back to work wrangling the last tangled strings. His tongue poked out between his lips in concentration, sweat beading on his forehead after long hours sitting in the hot sun.

With a final flourish Isonali pulled the last tangle loose, leaving three separate fibers lying free in his lap. Ateyo tilted his head approvingly, “Well done.”

Isonali looked up, “You think so?”

As he talked he tied the last of the fibers, winding each one into a coil and tying it around itself with the tail end of the fiber. The last three fibers joined the rest of his collection, lying in a tidy line of bundles across the patchy earth.

Ateyo surveyed the many tied bundles and smiled, impressed despite himself. The materials used by the weavers often had the unruly habit of getting tangled at the least provocation and separating them again was long tedious work, work the weavers often lacked the time for. More often than not it was work left to the apprentices, but even they struggled to keep up with it on top of their regular work.

“I think the weavers will greatly appreciate your work. Klethali always complains of tangled threads and no time to fix them.”

Isonali smiled. He shuffled to his feet, crouching amongst the fibers and quickly collecting them into one large pile. “I'll leave these here for you, Saheli.”

“Yeah, yeah,” said Saheli. She didn't look up from her work, busy fingers weaving a complex pattern with what looked to be a dozen different strands. “Now stop bothering me. Go have some fun or something.”

Isonali took that for what it was and smiled, “I'll see you later.”

The grass was cool and still damn with morning dew in the deepest parts of the shade and it tickled his feet as he walked, a cool relief from the dry bake of the sun. Isonali rolled his shoulders, sighing at the low burn of the muscles through his back and the stretch of tight scar tissue. It was nice to be finally moving again after so long sitting down.

“You wanted to talk to me?” He asked Ateyo.

“I hadn't seen you in several hours and with Tsu'tey gone I thought you might be bored. Though,” Ateyo inclined his head, an amused smile flitting across his lips, “I see that is not the case.”

Isonali shrugged, “I could do with a break now anyway. It was getting a bit hot in the sun.”

The jungle was pleasant in the midday heat, kept cool and shaded by the engulfing reach of the trees. They stretched above in a thick green tangle, bristling leaves greedily soaking up every speck of sunlight they touched. Where the light penetrated through the greenery it cast dappled beams across the ground that flickered with every breath of wind.

Through the pervasive dim plants burst in forth in violent riots of colour, splashing the green with flares of bright reds and cheerful yellows. On the other side of the river a herd of Angtisks could be heard, bellowing deeply to one another and beating the under growth out of their way as the lumbering giants moved on towards the deeper parts of the forest.

They followed the river for a time, keeping it to their left as they slowly wound through the undergrowth, following the faint paths set into the dirt by repeated passage. Every now and then Ateyo would stop and kneel in the undergrowth, collecting some plant or another. He tucked each one into a bag tied along his hip, tightening the lip of the bag closed again afterwards.

"What are you picking," Isonali asked after the third or so time Ateyo stopped.

Ateyo held out his hand, displaying the bulbous white flower in sitting in the center of his palm. It had short waxy petals that stuck out in all directions, more like spines than actual petals, an a round solid compartment in the center. "There's liquid in the center," Ateyo explained, "we use it to make ink and paint, if we mix it with ochre. These are for the Uniltaron, for Tsu'tey."

"Body paint?"

Ateyo nodded and stood, dropping the flower into his bag alongside the others he had collected. "It is part of the ceremony. Each persons is different - It marks their clan, linage and the path they has chosen to walk."

"Hm," Isonali said. They kept walking and the next time Isonali say one of the white flowers peeking through the ferns he stopped and plucked it, handing it to Ateyo without a word.

Finally Ateyo spoke, cutting through the silence before Isonali could settle into a brooding mood. “Have you thought on what you want to when you become a man?”

“I want to be useful to the clan. Apart from that I haven't thought about it much...” He trailed off, embarrassed.

“You have been spending a lot of time with the weavers, does it interest you?” said Ateyo, tone light. He wasn't making assumptions, just questing, exploring the options.

Isonali rubbed the back of his neck. “Not really - it's more for the company. Tsamui and Saheli are good friends, but I don't really think I'm all that good at weaving.” Isonali shrugged, “If anything, I'd want to be a warrior or a hunter."

He wanted to be able to protect the clan, but... he didn't particularly want to be a warrior. He didn't want to fight or hurt people, have the responsibility of the entire clan's safety on his shoulders. It sounded horribly strangely familiar. Too intense, too stressful, too easy to take the guilt onto himself if something happened. No, that was not the path for him.

But being a hunter? It would let him support the clan in another way, and give him the skills to help if he ever needed to protect the clan.

"A hunter," Isonali said finally.

“It's a good choice. The hunters say you are learning quickly.” He paused and regarded Isonali thoughtfully, “But will that path make you happy?”

Isonali thought of the victorious feeling of finding something in one of his snares. He thought of time spent sitting with the hunters, listening to their stories and wondering if he would ever do anything like that. He thought of how it felt to bring back food and know that he had helped feed the clan, helped kept them safe and happy. He thought of sitting in the heights of the hometree with Tsu'tey, watching the Ikran and imagining having an Ikran of his own. Imagined what it would feel like to know that he, like Tsu'tey, like Ateyo, like Mo'at, was one of the reasons the clan was prospering.

“Yes,” he said, “I think it will.”

.

The mixture was thick and gritty with a consistency not unlike mud. It had taken hours of tireless grinding and adding water for it to finally reach a smooth finish, colour bright and quick to set. Isonali was adding a last splash of water to it when he heard shouting from the entrance of the hometree. He looked up, a relieved smile creeping across his face.

Tsu'tey and the others had returned. The Uniltaron was about to begin.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the last of the old version. There isn't anymore after this. 
> 
> I'm going to say it again, just in case you missed it at the start. This is an ABANDONED work. There will not be any updates, so please don't ask for them. Any other comments on the story are fine. In fact I encourage them. It's all ways nice to hear what you guys think :)


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